


Joie de Vivre

by halloweennut



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: 18th Century, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Moulin Rouge! Fusion, Bohemian lifestyle, Burlesque, Multi, bohemian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:28:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halloweennut/pseuds/halloweennut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper Pines works at The Mystery Chalet, a burlesque club frequented by many Bohemians where he himself is a performer with his sister.  One night a new patron comes in and falls head over heels with him. And despite his job, Dipper finds himself falling too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mystery Chalet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill steps into a place of mystery. 
> 
> song is That Man by Caro Emerald

Bill held his hat firmly on his head as he descended from the taxi, following his group of companions out into the street. They had gone deep into the city to the quote-unquote Bohemian epicenter of it. The Bohemians themselves had nicknamed it ‘Gravity Falls’ while to most people in the quote-unquote polite society simply referred to it as either the red-light district, or -with a sniff or disdainful gaze-  _that_  area. 

Out of all of his companions, he was the only one who had traversed there for some time. He knew some of the best clubs, how much absinthe he could handle in a sitting, and rates for some of the more promiscuous ladies of the town. But the place they were in front of now was unknown to him. 

The sign was bright red, not uncommon, and said “The Mystery Chalet”, and the facade looked like it had been transposed from a cabin in the woods and onto a modern building. Bill wrinkled his nose. It didn’t sound all too promising, but it did pique his interest. 

There was a large man covered in tattoos standing guard at the front, staring them down as he opened the door for them, letting the faint sound of music out. Bill and his compatriots simply laughed, and walked into the dark hallway. As it became lighter, Bill began to see that the walls were covered in posters advertising acts, and pictures showing mysterious creatures. The hall soon opened up into a _salon,_ filled with lovely ladies of the night on the arms of well-dressed older men, some of which Bill recognized, and other club goers. On the sides of the room were what seemed to be exhibitions of cryptids and other strange creatures. 

'So that's why it's called the Mystery Chalet,' Bill chuckled to himself as his group was lead into the main area. 'Supernatural isn't exactly new, though. But it's clever.'

The main area was stock full of people, littering the dance floor and bar, prostitutes, writers, business men and wives all mixed together. Bill found himself liking the place a little more.

"Say, Bill, you know you’re way around these parts, right? Been here before?" one of his companions said. He didn’t know him- he had tagged along with his brother.   

"It’s not bad," Bill hummed," There’s a better one on 66th and 4th…where’s your brother?"

"Jim? Where in blazes…, oh for heaven’s sake he’s married!" he said in a panic, running off to find him. 

"Let Jim have his fun!" Ivan, the already drunk and still drinking one, yelled after him. "Oh well. Say let’s order some drinks, ey?"

"None for you, Ivan. We don’t need you barfing on some poor dancer. Again," Bill smirked, stealing the almost empty flask from the other’s breast pocket. "If the smell of booze doesn’t drive her away first."

"Fine. But just one shot from the green fairy won’t hurt me. It wouldn’t hurt any of us!" Ivan cried, rousing a cheer, and moved to flag down a server.

"I’ll get the drinks, you stay here and try not to scare any ladies, "Bill laughed, standing.

"Be sure to ask if there’s a performance tonight!" another yelled as they passed him a few bills, and he went to the bar. But stopped halfway there, something catching his eye. 

A young man, maybe in his early twenties, was weaving his way through the crowd, a wooden crate balanced on his shoulder. His brown hair was tousled, and his dark eyes held a wary, if not intelligent gaze.  Bill could only watch as he gave the box to the bartender, before disappearing backstage. 

He snapped from it, as though breaking from a trance, and continued to the counter, tossing the bills onto it. 

"Seven shots of abisinthe, neat," Bill said, eyes only looking at the bartender for a second, before returning to where the boy had disappeared to. 

"Neat? That’s heavy, dude. Comin’ right up!" 

Bill leaned against the counter, casting his eye to the stage area, dim. 

"So is there any performance, tonight, or no? My friends are looking forward to a show," Bill said, trying to get his mind of a pair of dark eyes.

"Oh yeah,dude! The show doesn’t begin for a few minutes, but man, do we have great dancers. Name’s Soos!" the man replied, lining up seven glasses in a circle on a small tray before grabbing the grabbing the bottle of absinthe from behind him.

"Hm. Don’t care," Bill said, watching as he poured the liquid into the glasses. "Lemme guess, can-can? Burlesque?"

"A bit of both! There’s a twin act tonight- the house’s own! They’re great, and I ain’t saying that because they’re my friends or my bosses relatives, "Soos replied, shoving the tray towards Bill, who simply hummed.

"And one more question," Bill said, tray in grasp, "who was that boy that had the crate a few minutes ago?"

"Oh that’s Dipper.  He’s a stagehand and a performer. You’ll see him later tonight, actually, "Soos replied, already on the next order. As Bill made his way back, he could only wonder what the boy was going to even be doing. 

"Alright boys, bottoms up," Bill cried triumphantly as he placed the tray on the table to their delight. "And there is in fact a show tonight."

He sat, and grabbed a glass, and threw it back, the bitter but refreshing substance gently stinging his tongue. The rest of them, some of which who had never had the drink before, followed suit.  Bill couldn’t help but laugh at their reactions.

"Oh poor things. You’ll get used to it soon enough! "Ivan said loudly, with a laugh. Before anything else could be said or done, the music stopped, bringing silence all around as the lights dimmed, save for a single spotlight on the stage, focusing on an older gentleman dressed in a sleek black suit, graying hair hidden under under a fez. He smirked at the crowd, looking more like a conman that a showman. 

"Ladies and gents," he called out, voice rough like gravel,"I present to you, the world famous"-Bill doubted that-Mystery Chalet Dancers!"

He stepped off the stage as the curtain pulled back, and out spilled dancers, all young, pretty things dressed in bright colors. The music crescendoed as they jumped from the stage and onto the dance floor, swinging their skirts wide and high over their waists, spinning away from the grabbing hands of rakes. They formed two lines facing each other, and swinging their legs high, advanced towards each other, wild and only going faster as the beat of the music increased. They passed each other, waving their skirts at the audience before dropping into deep splits. They beamed at the audience’s roars, jumping back up, spinning with skirts high as they approached the sea of people, grabbing random men - and the occasional woman- into their dance. 

But despite all the pretty faces, Bill couldn’t find the one he wanted to see. 

'The barkeep said he was in a double act,' Bill thought, watching with a faint smile as he watched Jim's poor brother get pulled into the massive throng, 'he”ll be on later, probably.' 

As soon as he thought that the lights dimmed once again, focusing on the stage as the music suddenly cut off. The curtain pulled back once more to reveal two solitary figures. 

One was a girl, with long brown hair pearls and gems weaved through it, wearing a tightly cinched red corset embroidered with gold roses, nude stockings -if she was wearing any at all- and heels. Bill could hear the gasp of one of his group- Mermando, if he guessed correctly- at the sight of her. But he was focused on her partner. Dipper almost mirrored her, only instead wearing a red coat with similar embroidery, tight black pants, and dress shoes, and wore a top hat over his -now neatly brushed- brown locks. They stood back to back, faces downward as they waited for the music. 

It started, a jazzy, jumpy beat, and Bill could see the smiles form on their faces as they began to bounce their hips and shoulders in time with the beat. The girl’s face turned up first, smile now more of a flirtatious smirk.

"I’m in a little bit of trouble, and I’m in real deep,” she started, her voice a high alto, as she stepped a few feet from Dipper, pressing a hand dramatically to her chest,” From the beginning to the end, he was no more than a friend to me.”   
  
"The thought is makin’ me hazy, I think I better sit down, ” she sang, pretending to swoon and fell back into her partner’s waiting arms,” Cause like the sweetest serenade, bet he knows he’s got it made with me.”

Dipper spun her out, grinning, as she continued,” Twisting round on a carousel; This speeds’ too much to stop! One second I’m thinkin’ I’m feeling the lust, and then I feel a lot!”

They started dancing together, the both of them singing as they stepped and spun around each other.  Dipper’s voice was higher than Bill expected it to be, a smooth tenor in contrast to the girl.

“Ooh that man is like a flame  
And ooh that man plays me like a game!  
My only sin is I can’t win.  
Ooh I wanna love that man!  
Ooh that man is on my list  
And ooh that man I wanna kiss!  
My only sin is I can’t win  
Ooh I wanna love that man!”

Dipper pulled from his partner, moving center stage, eyes focused ahead, and grin almost seductive. 

“Now it’s like I’m on a mission headed everywhere,he sang, leaning forward on his knees, moving his torso from right to left, as though searching for something, before standing straight with a nonchalant shrug,” And if it takes a little long and it feels a little wrong, who cares?”  
  
Mabel dance up next to him, bracing his shoulders as he went into the next verse, pretending to look helpless. “Someone call a doctor, need some help to rescue me! One second I’m thinkin’ I must be lost  
And he keeps on findin’ me!”

They continued into a repeat of the chorus, but Bill could barely hear it, too mesmerized by the sight of him, mind swimming with his voice as he just sat and stared. 

—-

The song had turned instrumental, and Dipper and Mabel continued dancing, moving closer to the edge of the stage, stepping over stretched out hands. 

"Pssst, bro-bro," Mabel whispered, catching her brother’s attention.

"What, Mabel? We’re kind of in the middle of a performance right now," he whispered back, still keeping the stage grin wide.

"Look over there, one o’clock, on the raised platform tables. Blondie, nice suit, eyepatch," she replied with a nod in the direction, " he’s been staring at you all night."

He cast his gaze over for a second.

"He’s probably staring at you, along with his friend next to him," he said with a soft chuckle. 

"Nah, it’s definitely you. He’s new. He probably doesn’t now what a commodity you are to the other patrons, " she joked. "You should do the thing."

"That’s cruel."

"But it’s kind of fun. And he’s cuuute," she teased. He had to admit: whoever it was, they were cute. 

"Alright, fine."

With bright smirks, they made their way off the stage, making weaving through the crowd in opposite directions, batting their eyelashes and batting away curious hands. Dipper locked eyes with the stranger, walking almost painfully slow towards him. 

"Ooh, I’m going to find that man! "Mabel sang out, pulling on a random man’s tie, pulling him close before pushing him away. 

“You bet ya, I’m gonna find that man,” Dipper sang back in response, barely interacting with the clamoring admirers around him. A casual glance, a light brush, but that was it. He got closer to the man ahead of him, watching as the man’s face grew surprised and confused. And he was more than cute- he was very, very attractive. 

“Eeh, I’m gonna find that man!” Mabel echoed back, swinging herself onto some lucky gentleman’s table, running a hand down his cheek, springing away before he could wrap his arms around her. 

Dipper felt his heart race as he grew closer, and he sped up his pace as his last line came. 

“I’m gonna find that, I’m gonna find that man!” 

And with that, he came up to the table, leaning forward over Bill, one hand carelessly draped over his chair, the other on the table, caging him. 

"Looks like I found him," Dipper said, breathlessly smirking as Bill could only stare, cheeks flushed to his chagrin. But before he could do or say anything, Dipper was gone, already back on stage with Mabel and bowing to the crowd as she blew kisses. The curtains fell, and both were hidden from sight.

And Bill decided this was the best club he had been to.


	2. One Day I'll Fly Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper finds himself starting to break a rule, and Mabel meets a fervent admirer and an investor.

Dipper and Mabel hurried backstage, eager to change out of their costumes. While Mabel would be donning a new one, less revealing, for going out onto the floor to chat and flirt with customers, Dipper would simply go back to what he was wearing before hand. 

"Well? Was he cuter up close? Oh- no! He was handsome wasn't he? I can tell 'cause you haven't stopped blushing! "Mabel said with a playful nudge to his ribs. 

"Mabel! No he-" he was cut off by a glare," Alright, yes he was attractive. Don't even think about trying to set us up."

"Pfft what? I was totally not thinking that silly!"

"You lie."

"Yup!"

"Wow," Dipper said, shedding the coat in the dressing hall, and throwing in on a chair. Mabel sat down in front of the mirror next to his, unwinding the pearls and gems from her locks. 

"What? I'm the matchmaker of the club! It is my duty, " she said, piling her hair up into a bun, pining it with small tortoise shell combs. "Robbie and Tambry are ridiculously happy, and so are Soos and Melody!"

"I'll give you that one. But they work here! You can't set me up with a patron! It would never work. Need I remind you of Norman?  He went mad jealous and tried to kidnap you?" Dipper said, buttoning up his shirt.

"He's crazy! That guy didn't look crazy!" she chirped, stepping into a teal dress, pulling it up. "He seems totally stable...Hey Grenda! Can you give me a hand here? I need to reapply my face!"

Grenda moved from lifting a chest of clothing, and began to lace up the back of her dress as Mabel leaned closer to the mirror, rubbing rouge onto her cheeks. Dipper sighed, knowing it was futile to reason with her. As he slipped on his vest, Grunkle Stan slipped through the dividing curtain between backstage and the dressing hall. 

"Hey Grunkle Stan!" Mabel chirped, pausing reapplying her blush to look at him as Grenda pulled the back of her dress closed, "How did we -oof!- do?"

"Wonderful, Mabel! You got men practically fighting each other just to meet with ya. Same with you, Dipper. The whole 'I'm totally ignoring you all' aloof thing drives'em nuts. Especially that end bit you did. Note: do it more often, they eat it up, "he replied, ruffling his nephew's hair before turning to the rest of the dancers. "Also, really big announcement here so listen up ladies! And Dipper and whatever other male dancers- We have a possible investor tonight so next act, go all out! Spread the word to the dancers on the floor."

There was a wave of excitement through them. A new investor meant more money, which they desperately needed.  While the rest of the dancers were talking about the prospect, Stan turned to the twins.

"I hate to do this to you guys, but you are the most popular thing here," Stan said quietly," I need one or both of you to go shmooze the guy. He'll be on the mezzanine, center. You think you got this?"

Mabel nodded, already reaching behind her to undo her gown. "Someone grab me the red dress! With the bustle and sweetheart neckline!"

And she was off, leaving Dipper and Stan alone. Dipper awkwardly rubbed his arm, grabbing for the red coat. 

"I think she's got it, champ," Stan said, " You take a breather for now. But be right back up there for your next number."

Dipper smiled, dropping the coat, and reached under his desk for his book, and ran off into the maze of the backstage. Stan smiled sadly, wishing he could let Dipper and Mabel go off into the world. 

"Only a little longer, kid, just until we're in the clear," he murmured to no one as he left the hall, leaving behind the clamor and noise. 

\----

Bill quietly slipped backstage, leaving his table on the guise of getting more drinks. They were plastered enough already- he doubted they would notice if he was gone for a while. The place contrasted the front of the house- it was bare, covered in props, props, ropes, and empty liquor bottles. He saw a curtain on his right, and hearing noises from it, peek through. 

And was greeted with a dozen or so barely dressed dancers, one of which was part of the double act.

"Heeeelllo beautiful stranger! I'm sorry, darling, but you'll have to talk to our manager if you want to...arrange a get together, " one of them teased, shaking her hips. The rest of them laughed, watching his face for any sort of blush, and were disappointed to only see a slightly flustered look. 

"I'm looking for someone actually-" he was cut off by a shout of 'who isn't?' followed by a rowdy chorus of laughter. He frowned and continued. "But I see he isn't here. I'm sorry to have disturbed you ladies. Goodnight."

He tipped the brim of his tophat forward in a sign of politeness, and moved away from the curtain, followed by the giggles of some of the younger dancers as the rest turned back to getting ready to go on. 

Mabel realized that maybe she wasn't going to have to interfere as much as she thought. 

\---

Dipper curled up in a small window nook on the second floor of the backstage, nose firmly buried in his book. It was fairly new- one of his 'admirers' had sent him a case of books not too long ago, upon finding out from Mabel that he loved reading. While Dipper was grateful for them, he wished they had given him enough money to help the club and finance his flight from there. 

It wasn't that he hated the Mystery Chalet, he loved it but...he knew there was more to life than drinking and dancing, avoiding prying eyes and hands, lap dances and false seduction. And despite his best efforts to get away from those things, it only made people want him to do it more. 

Stan was right- the 'aloof' bit really did drive people crazy. He wouldn't be surprised if there was a list waiting for him after the show of men who wanted his company, nothing too new, with the new addition of the blonde. At the thought of him, Dipper felt his face flush. 

'No, Dipper, remember the rules,' he scowled to himself, leaning closer to his book,' Don't get attached, never fall in love. Not until you're out."

And how he wanted out. He wanted to travel the world outside of Gravity Falls and the the city, to write and...maybe even fall in love along the way?

A sudden loud crash snapped him away from his thoughts and made him jump. He looked over to see a person trying to untangle their leg from some rope, and looking apologetically up at him from the pile of props on the floor. To Dipper's surprise, it was the blonde man from before. Usually people didn't come backstage to try and meet someone- it all had to go through Stan. 

"I didn't mean to disturb you, sorry, " the man said shakily, finally freeing his leg, but made no movement to get close to him.

"It's...fine? You're not supposed to be back here," Dipper said, swinging his feet down to the floor.

"I figured as much, but I," the man paused, removing his hat, and Dipper noticed how his face was just barely showing the hint of a blush" I wanted to talk to you?"

Dipper found himself blushing. That was the only time an audience member had said that without making it sound like something else. But he refused to be charmed.

"If this is about earlier, I'm sorry," Dipper said. "I hope I didn't...I hope you weren't lead to believe anything. It's kind of my job."

The man looked crestfallen for a second, but he hid it well. "I am aware. But...nevermind. I should head back to my group, now. You and your partner were spectacular. Good night."

He turned to leave, but Dipper called back to him. "Wait!"

"Yes?" the man faced him, eye wide. Dipper walked up to him.

"You're going to get lost back here. I'll show you the way out," he said, as though apologizing. "I'm Dipper, by the way."

"Thank you. The name's Bill Cipher, " he said with a smile that was like a smirk. Dipper couldn't help but smile back. 

As he lead him through the veritable maze of the backstage, they actually spoke, neither one of them wanting any sort of awkward silence. Bill was pleasantly surprised to hear Dipper talk about multiple things he had read about, and novels he was writing.  Bill was eager to learn more about them, but before long, Dipper was asking questions about him, which he earnestly responded to. 

Soon afterwards, the two were talking like old friends, and Bill made the decision to become more frequent at the Mystery Chalet. And Dipper, despite his internal objections, realized that he liked Bill, probably as much as Bill liked him. 

\----

Mabel made her way across the floor to the steps to the mezzanine, smiling and laughing with elegant tosses of her head, side-stepping from men to made to grab her, accepting gifts of roses and jewelry from her regular admirers as they clamored for her attention, begging for her company. With a flirtatious grin, she waved them away with a silk-gloved hand.

"Sorry, not right now boys!"

They whined, and while a few left, some continued to beg after her. A random one, who had not begged for her, pushed past them, gently grabbing her arm. Mabel was ready to swing around and punch him for grabbing her, but stopped when faced with a ridiculously handsome man, with deep brown eyes and long black hair.

"I am sorry to accost you like this, miss, " he said, voice deep and almost like a purr. She immediately placed him from Spain. " But I must know your name! I wish to know who has stolen my heart this night."

Mabel tried not to squeal. That was literally the best line anyone had ever used on her. And like hell she was going to turn this catch down.

"Why don't you tell me yours first?" she asked coyly, stepping away with a casual glance over her shoulder.

"My name is Mermando, " he replied, taking her hand and pressed a kiss onto it. Mabel swore she saw his hair flow as though picked up by a breeze as he said his name. He was perfect. 

"Wow you are charming," she replied dreamily, as he stared up at her. "Oh! My name's Mabel. I would love to stay and talk, but I have business to take care of."

"Then I shall return every night, so I may gaze upon you!" Mermando vowed as she moved away, and was soon blocked by the crowd. Mabel looked for him to wave goodbye but lost him in the sea of people, and headed towards the steps. 

Surprisingly, there weren't many people up there. Usually it was full of the wealthier patrons and investors, but it was empty, save for one at the center table. She put on her best smile, a coy smirk reserved for investors only, and slowly made her way to him. She quickly caught his eye, and he scanned her up and down. He wasn't her type, really, but his hair platinum blonde coif was impressive. As she approached the table he stood, nearly as tall as her. He took her hand, mirroring Mermando, and placed a kiss on it. 

"Enchante," he purred, southern accent thick. She smiled. 

"I believe you were expecting me?" she asked as she sat down across from him. 

"I surely was, miss...," he trailed off as he sat down with a smug smile. 

"Mabel. And you?" she replied, moving her hand to trail up his arm. 

"Gleeful. Gideon Gleeful."


	3. Meet Me In The Red Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper is taunted, and Bill receives an invitation. 
> 
> song: Circus- Britney Spears

              In the following weeks, Bill returned every night to the same table, and would slip backstage after the first performance to see Dipper. Although Dipper knew this was breaking so many rules, he couldn’t bring himself to properly care- he enjoyed Bill’s company far too much. He could put up with the teasing over his infatuation with him and the occasional admonishment from a stage manager or two.

               It’s not like they were too careful. Dipper would be changed in a flash and out to the entrance to the main floor to grab Bill, and they would practically waltz through the backstage to the second floor, passing by a countless array of stagehands and dancers. It was the hottest piece of gossip since they had had since the new investor.

               “So, Dipper” one dancer asked one night before a show, turning to him as she applied lipstick. “You told him your rates yet?”

               Dipper choked on his own breath, face going bright red. “N-no! It’s not like that, Nini! Oh my god…”

               She laughed with a few other dancers that were within earshot, tossing her head back. “Then what is it? It’s getting hard to hide both of your growing…attractions. I bet you haven't even kissed him yet.”

               “Nini, cut it off!” Mabel snapped, coming to stand in front of her brother. “They’ve only been courting for a few weeks! Dipper’s obviously not comfortable for that kind of thing!”

               “I am! I mean, possibly!” Dipper said, insulted.

               “Puh-lease. You probably couldn’t even give him a proper lap dance without running away. “

               “Is that a dare?” Dipper interrupted, face red, and stepped from behind his sister. Nini looked at him coyly with an amused grin. “Then fine! I accept! Mabel, is anyone using the Red Room tonight?”

               That got a gasp from everyone.  The Red Room was usually reserved for _special_ clientele and for certain acts, and was the hardest room to get into. To only use it for a lap dance was daring, but it certainly showed that he had guts. And that guy was certainly lucky.

\---

               Bill sat in his normal spot, swirling a glass of wine in his hand, and waiting for the show to start. Mermando sat next to him, drumming his fingers on the table and staring longingly at the stage. Bill stared at his hand, slightly annoyed.

               “If you keep doing that, you’re going to leave marks on the table,” he said, snapping Mermando from his concentration. He sheepishly moved his hand off the table and onto his lap.

               “I…I’m apprehensive for the show is all,” he responded, staring once more at the stage.  Bill rolled his eye.

               “Right. The show and not a certain dancer, “Bill smirked, sipping from his glass as Mermando spun to stare at him. “I may be blind in one eye, Mermando, but I have one good eye still. You are besotted with Mabel. As if I haven’t noticed you fight her other admirers, and you get this utterly love-sick look on your face once you actually talk to her. It’s precious.”

               Mermando squirmed. “Alright, yes. But you mustn’t tell a soul! If my family were to find out, if my arranged intended found out…my country wouldn’t be able to handle it…”

               “I don’t know what to tell you about all that, but I won’t tell a soul,” Bill replied, peering over his glass to watch the younger man relax. He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see a stage hand –Thompson, if he remembered correctly- with a small envelope in his hand.

               “Yes?” Bill said, placing his glass on the table as Mermando stared curiously on. Thompson shoved the envelope to him.

               “This is for you, sir. It’s an invitation,” he said quickly, face turning red before he hurried away. Bill watched him as he left with confusion before turning his attention to the envelope in his hand. He slipped a finger under the flap, tearing it open, and took out the pale, slightly perfumed paper from the envelope. He unfolded it, and quickly read the cursive, recognizing it as Dipper’s.  He felt his cheeks grow warm, and he reread the letter again, to make sure he read it correctly. And then again.

               “Bill? What is it?” Mermando asked, faintly concerned. Bill looked up from the note to his friend, and swallowed hard.

               “It appears I have an engagement after tonight’s act, “he replied, tucking he letter into his breast pocket.

               “With your beau? Like how you’ve noticed me, I’ve noticed you sneaking backstage, and making eyes at Mabel’s partner. There is something there isn’t there? “Mermando teased. “I won’t tell also.”

               ---

               After the performance – where Bill and Dipper avoided any sort of eye contact – Mabel swept her way to Bill’s table, looking like she was on a mission.

               “Bill? I’m here to escort you to The Red Room, “she said, hands clasped behind her back.  As Bill stood, she winked at Mermando- a silent promise to be right back- and she led him to a side door next to the stage. Instead of backstage, it led into a long hallway lined with doors. The walls were covered in burgundy wall paper, with bright silver sconces coming out of them, casting dim light. Bill realized he was in the bordello section of the club, slightly disappointed it lacked all the odds-and-ends cryptids. They walked in silence until they came to a stop in front of a set of stairs.

               “Alright, there are some ground rules,” Mabel said, breaking the silence between them. “Number one: No touching. And I mean it.  Number two: be a jerk and I’ll kick your ass. Basically, act out of line and unlike a gentleman and you’re out. This is my brother, and you will treat him with respect.”

               Bill nodded. “I don’t need to be told twice. I got it, m’am.”

               She smiled. “Good! Now right up these stairs is The Red Room. Go in and make yourself comfortable. Dipper will be with you shortly.”

               Mabel began walking back to the main floor, and he started up the stairs, nervous yet strangely excited.

\---

               He could understand why it was called the Red Room. It was covered in red velvet curtains, trimmed with gold thread, and the walls were covered in dark red wallpaper, with the occasional panel covered instead with a gold-like material, with…rather erotic scenes carved into them. There was a large, lush bed against the wall, covered with furs and pillows, and a small bed stand stood next to it. In the center of the room stood a wooden chair with wine-colored cushions. He sat down in it, facing the door, hands clenching and unclenching on the armrests.

               A few minutes passed, and the door opened, and Dipper entered, looking less nervous than Bill felt, and wore what looked like nothing but a robe. Their eyes met for a second before Dipper turned around to lock the door.

               “Did Mabel explain the rules?” Dipper’s voice wavered, betraying him. Bill choked out a breathless yes, and watched as Dipper stood straighter, hands moving to the front of his robe. His nails dug deep into the wood of the chair as he watched the robe slip off Dipper’s shoulders and fall to the floor. 

               Dipper slowly turned around, successfully concealing a blush, eyes quickly capturing Bill’s. He was wearing a filmy, skin-tight tunic, covered with gems that crossed the top of his chest and clustered over the area between his legs. Bill broke the stare, and scanned him up and down, unsure of where to focus other than his crotch.  Dipper began to walk towards him, tantalizingly slow, and moved his hips slowly from left to right, running his hands up and down his body. Bill froze, tracing his hands with his eye as they moved over his thighs and chest, feeling a tightening in his pants.

               “Just lean back and relax,” Dipper cooed, gradually coming closer. Bill swallowed hard and leaned back in the chair, knees spreading slightly. Dipper bit his lower lip as he finally reached Bill, and started circling the chair, one hand stroking the other’s chest as he made his way around and felt him shiver from the contact.

               “There’s only two types of people in the world,” Dipper slowly sang, reaching around to the front. “The ones that entertain, and the ones that…observe…”

               Dipper placed both of his hands on either side of Bill’s head, arching his back, and slowly moving his hips towards him as he continued. “Well baby I'm a put-on-a-show kinda guy…Don't like the backseat, gotta be first…”

               He straddled Bill, one knee on either side of his hips, just barely touching Bill, and started to grind his hips over him, hands coming to rest on Bill’s shoulders, fingers grabbing tightly onto his collar.  Bill held in a whimper, face red, and his hands clenched the armrest tighter. Dipper almost lost his concentration at the strangled noise, and licked his lips, watching as Bill’s eye dilate.  He lowered his hips ever so slightly lower, ignoring the fact that his boner was almost brushing against Bill’s. Like he hadn’t noticed beforehand. He leaned closer to Bill’s ear, lips ghosting over his skin.

               “I'm like the ringleader, I call the shots, “he sang in a low purr,” I'm like a firecracker-I make it hot when I put on a show…”

               Before Dipper could go on, Bill’s hands latched onto his hips, pulling him into his lap, and pressed his lips hungrily onto his with a moan. Dipper, although surprised, wasn’t about to end anything just yet, and deepened the kiss, slowly grinding against Bill. He pulled away with a gasp, and breathing heavily, looked up at Dipper, pressing his fingers into the other’s hips.

               “So much for that…no touching rule, huh?” he smirked. Dipper leaned forward, capturing his lips, gently biting on Bill’s lower lip before moving back.

               “I guess so.”


	4. Close the Door and Dim the Lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas, ya filthy animals.   
> My first smut, so I apologize if it's not the best lmao

Bill gripped Dipper’s thighs, lifting him up as he himself stood from the chair and moved towards the bed.  He laid Dipper on the bed, leaning over him and pressing ravenous kisses on the boy’s neck, gently tugging at the top of his tunic. Dipper wrapped his legs tightly around his waist, firmly gripping the back of Bill’s jacket, pressing closer and closer.

               Suddenly Bill found himself on the bed with Dipper straddling him, smirking down coyly.

               “Like I said,” Dipper purred, slowly grinding his hips, “I call the shots…”

               Bill moved his hips upward to meet Dippers, hands coming up to rest on his hips. He watched as Dipper kept moving his hips, slowly slipping the sleeves of his tunic down his shoulders and off his arms, revealing his chest. Bill moved his hands up to touch, only to have them grabbed and forced back to Dipper’s hips. He pulled the garment off over his head, tossing it to the ground. Dipper stopped his ministrations, and started to unbuckle Bill’s pants, revealing his erect member.  With a slightly cruel smirk, Dipper leaned over Bill, reaching for the bed side table. Bill threw back his head with a heady groan as he felt Dipper rub against his length, hands raising up to grip just below his ribs, fingernails digging into his skin.  Dipper grabbed a small container from the stand, and slowly peeled himself off of Bill.

               He unscrewed the top of the container, dipping two fingers in.  He pulled them out, shiny and slick.  He locked eyes with Bill’s, as he reached his hand around his back.  Bill’s eyes widened as he began to softly groan as he started to finger himself. He felt his teeth press down hard on his lower lip, only slightly content to watch Dipper. But the contentment only lasted so long.

               Dipper felt Bill pull on his wrist one second, the next he was back on the bed with him sitting on his legs.  Bill was leering down at him with a sideways smile, untying his tie and throwing it on the floor before unbuttoning his waistcoat.

               “I happen to do so too,” he said, sending the vest to the ground. Not one to give up so easily, Dipper shot forward grabbing Bill’s loosened collar, passionately pressing rough kisses along his jaw and down his neck. Bill moaned in return, and started to unbutton his shirt faster, fingers fumbling as Dipper raked his nails down his exposed chest.  

               “Oh fuck the shirt,” Bill gasped, leaving the shirt half-undone, and grabbed the small container. Dipper snatched it away with a grin.

               “Allow me,” he cooed, shifting backwards and few inches. Once his hand was slicked, he took Bill’s cock, and gave it a few agonizingly slow pumps.  Bill whimpered, thrusting upward into his hand.  Precum beaded on his slit, and ran down his shaft, leaking onto Dipper’s hand. He pulled his hand away to Bill’s chagrin, and raised it up to his face. Dipper ran his tongue over his fingers, licking the milky white substance off them.  Unable to control himself, Bill lunged forward, grabbing Dipper by the shoulders and pressed his lips hard against his, tasting himself on the boy’s lips.

               Dipper moaned, tangling his hands into Bill’s hair, tugging it to try to get a better angle on the other’s lips. Bill lowered one of his hands from the Dipper’s shoulder to his lower back, and laid him back down on the bed.  Face flushed, Bill moved to kiss his neck, gently sucking on his pulse point, before raising himself up to look Dipper in the eyes.

               “Is this what you want?” Bill asked breathlessly, hands resting on either side of Dipper’s head.  Dipper lifted his head up, quickly kissing his cheek, all the while pressing his knee into his groin, earning a sharp gasp is response.

               “Yes.”

               With that, Bill quickly pecked his mouth before settling himself between his legs.  He nervously gripped Dipper’s thighs and dragged him closer. Locking his eye with Dipper’s, he slowly pressed into him. Dipper lowly cried out as Bill moved all the way up to the hilt, and slowly backed out, only to thrust back in and out, each time gaining pace.  Dipper gasped, back rising up into an arch as Bill brushed against his sweet spot, hands flying from the bed sheets to his shoulders, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt. With the slightest hint of a smirk, Bill sped up, each movement thrusting against the same spot repeatedly. Dipper felt like he was going to catch aflame, holding back whimpers and groans behind clenched teeth as he came undone.  Bill savored each strangled noise, each one driving him closer until he could no longer hold back.  His movements became more erratic, fast and uneven.

               “Oh fuck- Bill!” Dipper cried, hands clenching his shoulders as he shot up, capturing Bill’s lips as he came, moaning into his mouth. Bill followed soon afterwards, cum filling Dipper to the brim.  He pulled out of him and collapsed to his side, arm draped over his chest. Panting, Dipper turned his head towards him.

               “We should-we should do that again,” he murmured, inching closer to him. Bill wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into his chest.  He hummed in response, lightly pressing kisses over his neck. 

               There was a sudden loud knock from the door.

               “Hey, you guys have been in there awhile- Do I need to break the door down?” the familiar voice of Mabel called out, rattling the doorknob. Face turning scarlet, Dipper raised himself up.

               “N-no! I’ll be out in a minute, Mabel,” Dipper called out before laying back down. They both waited and listened as the sound of her heels faded away. Bill grunted before breaking out in laughter, curling around Dipper, who soon joined in, pressing his face into Bill’s shoulder.  They calmed down after a few minutes, and he pulled away.

               “I’ll see you later,” Dipper whispered, unwillingly wiggling out of his grasp to grab his clothing.

               “Tomorrow night as always?” Bill asked, sitting up, leaning back on his hands. Dipper looked at him over his shoulder as he tied his robe around his waist.

               “It’s a date.”

              


	5. Mes Rêves Épanouis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mabel and Mermando go on a date, and Gideon makes a grand entrance. 
> 
> Alert, Mabel/Mermando fluff and Bill gets all dumb and jealousy. 
> 
> Song: La Vie en Rose by Edith Piaf (the title is taken from Complainte de la Butte by Rufus Wainwright) 
> 
> also if you want to see some Fragonard, voila! the Frick Collection hosts a collection of Fragonard Panels and are for viewing through their interactive map! You can also go explore and see the other paintings too! http://www.frick.org/visit/virtual_tour/fragonard_room
> 
> also side note on Caravaggio: while he influenced Baroque, and Baroque evolved into French Rococo (Fragonard) the two styles are not similar, with caravagionist style being more grounded with a darker, occasionally sickly palette with dramatic shadows, and french rococo being very bright and airy and very spring colored, and I think trying to combine late french rococo with caravagionist shadows would not end well. I have yet to see a painting like it though, so maybe I'm wrong? sorry unintentional rant on art. It's 3:30 am oops.

              There was no sort of secret about Bill and Dipper’s relationship in the crew of the Mystery Chalet.  They were more than happy to tease Dipper on occasion about how he and his ‘suitor’ would sneak off after performances to do ‘lord knows what’ with a casual wink, nudge and snicker. Despite the picking, they were all legitimately glad he was doing more than just sit alone and read half the time.

               Well, save for Stan. While, yes, it was good the kid was being less of a recluse outside of work, he just didn’t like the fact he was dating someone. It was good, too, and far better than his nephew being paid to sleep, see, what-have-you with some stranger. Call it over-protectiveness, whatever, but that wasn’t going to stop him from glaring Bill down whenever he had the chance. When he snuck backstage, when he was watching the show, whenever the moment came to pass, he took it. As Dipper’s Grunkle, he had the right to strike the fear of God into the hearts of any who had any sort of intention came anywhere near the boy.

               And the same went for Mabel, if not even more intense. He had been told he had looked like a devil at one point when staring down a patron.  He was damn proud of that.  He had been trying to do it to that one friend of Bill’s who had gotten close to Mabel over the past few weeks.  Unfortunately the kid’s eyes had always been on Mabel.  Stan was –pleasantly, but he would never admit- surprised he hadn’t attempted to schedule anything with her.

\---

               Mermando couldn’t wait for the show to end. Not that he didn’t mind watching and listening to Mabel, but he was on pins and needles to actually talk to her. His agitation was apparently noticeable, as Bill had mentioned it more than twice.

               “Hey, kid. What’s wrong you? You look about ready to pass out,” Bill said with a sideways glance, barely turning his head from the stage.

               “I have something I wish to ask of Mabel is all, “Mermando replied nervously moving his hands. “When you go backstage to go see Dipper, will you tell her I need to talk to her? It would mean a great deal to me.”

               “Or you can come with me and ask her whatever it is,” Bill suggested, watching the stage with adoration as Dipper bowed next to his sister. “Speaking of which, if you want to come, I’m leaving right now.”

               Mermando glanced around him, tense, before looking back at Bill, who had risen from his seat.

               “It won’t kill you to sneak backstage. I doubt anyone who knows anything about your situation is even here,” Bill sighed. “Take a deep breath and take the plunge.”

               Throwing one last glance behind him, Mermando stood, and followed Bill across the floor to the world behind the velvet curtain.  Bill casually opened the side door as though he belonged there, and maybe he did, and entered backstage with Mermando close behind. His eyes went wide at the sight of it- it was a cluttered place full of people running back and forth, accompanied by the swirling colored skirts of dancers and the occasional musician practicing before heading to the bandstand. He was amazed by it, and wondered how they were able to maneuver through it all.

               “Dipper, I’m here!” Bill called out to a doorway covered by a red velvet curtain.  It suddenly opened, and Dipper raced out, hurriedly pulling his vest on over his shoulders.  He practically threw himself on him, gently pressing his lips on Bill’s cheek.  His eye caught Mermando, standing behind Bill with his eyes averted from the two.

               “Who’s this?” Dipper asked, pulling away and nodding his head towards him. Bill turned to face his companion, placing his arm around Dipper’s shoulders.

               “This is my friend, Mermando. He’s studying business and law abroad, and in my infinite kindness, took him under my wing,” Bill replied with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “He’s hopelessly infatuated with your sister, too. That’s actually why he’s here- he wanted to ask her something, isn’t that right, kid?”

               Bill snickered and Dipper scowled as Mermando blanched, taking a step back, as though trying to escape Dipper’s glare.

               “Is that so?” Dipper said lowly, obviously protective of his sister.

               “Yes. I mean no ill intent I assure you,” Mermando pleaded, hands raising up in a defensive position.  Bill tugged Dipper closer, snapping him from his glare-down.

               “Trust me, he’s good as gold. He’s practically a baby lamb,” Bill assured with a chuckle.

               “I am not,” Mermando protested, staring at Bill, who just smirked.

               “Eh, you are.”

               Before Mermando could argue his case further, Mabel stepped out from behind the curtain, holding her hair up on top of her head with a hand.

               “Hey Dipper, have you seen my hairp- Mermando? What are you doing here?” she asked with a grin. She dropped her hand from her head, the brown curls spilling down behind her.

               “Well, we’ll leave you two squirrels to get better acquainted, tata!” Bill called as he and Dipper walked away arm in arm, both chuckling as Mermando as attempted to glare after them through a blush.  Dipper quickly pulled him behind a stack of crates.

               “I thought we were discussing Poe today, darling, but if you want…,” Bill smirked, leaning forward to kiss him, only to have a hand pressed on his lips.

               “Yes, we are still talking about him, and yes to that also, but not right now,” Dipper whispered. “Right now we’re spying on them.”

               “I told you- the kid’s-“Dipper shot him a glare, and Bill shut up.

               Meanwhile, Mabel was staring at Mermando expectantly, curious. He fidgeted and cleared his throat.

               “Mabel, I was wondering if you would like to go to the park with me tomorrow. I mean, if you are not busy,” Mermando said, fiddling with one of his cufflinks.

               “Wait. What?” Mabel asked, slightly confused. “You mean, like a…date? A date date?”

               “I-er- yes? Just walking through a park. And nothing else really except maybe talking?” He responded, gently grasping one of her hands in his. “Our talks are usually so brief, and I would like to learn more about you.”

               “Oh! Oh, um, yes. I would- I would like that very much, “she replied, feeling her cheeks grow warm as she began to pull away her hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

               “I’ll come for you at say, one o’clock? If that is alright?” he asked, letting go and taking a slow step back.

               “Yeah that’s fine!” Mabel said, nervously chuckling as she half-turned back to the dressing hall entry. “See y-OOF!”

               She stepped back from the doorframe she had ever so gracefully ran into, hands flying to her nose. Mermando stepped forward to her aid, but she waved him off, throwing him a large smile.

               “I’m fine! I’m fine. Goodnight!” she quickly prattled before lunging herself through the curtain. Mermando, thinking no one was watching, let out a half-hissed ‘Yes!’ before turning back to the main hall.

               Bill and Dipper laughed.

\----

               Stan finally had the kid where he wanted him, squirming under his relentless, hardened gaze. He was standing a few feet away, his eyes nervously shifting from him and Dipper, who had managed to get a less adorable stare down, and to the stage door, constantly adjusting his cravat or the cuffs of his brown overcoat.

               “Dipper, you roped me into helping you with the Chalet’s finances, so get over here and help or I won’t get you that book, “Bill called from a table over, trying to ease Mermando’s nerves while also trying to figure out how the Chalet spent so damn much on electricity and glassware.  Casting one last menacing stare, Dipper went back over to the small table, covered in bills and over documents, leaving Stan, who only chilled his expression more. Mermando felt like he was being frozen into stone.

               Fortunately for him, Mabel came from backstage, hands quickly smoothing out the front of her outfit.  She wore a sky blue dress with a cream white bodice, and her hair was tucked under a slightly darker blue hat, trimmed with small silk roses and leaves.  Mermando quickly swept off his hat as she approached him with a wide smile.

               “Sorry I’m a little late,” she said,” There was some confusion backstage…”

\--

               Thompson swung from the ceiling, thoroughly tangled in rigging, trying to reach for a shoe one of the dancers had kicked up there, while some stage hands and dancers stood below.

               “Swing! Use the momentum to grab it!” Nate yelled as Lee cheered on.

               “Or just swat at it! It’ll fall down if you try harder!” Robbie called, “You should’ve brought like, a stick or something!”

               “Thompson! Thompson!” Wendy cheered with a laugh.

\--

               “But anyway, I’m here now! Ready?” Mabel finished. Mermando smiled back, placing his hat back on his head. He offered his arm up to her.

               “Shall we?”

               “Yes!” she replied, quickly linking her arm through his before turning to her family, “I’ll be back before the show. See you guys later!”

               “Bye, sweetie! No funny stuff, ya hear?” Stan called out as they exited the hall. As soon as they were out, he called out to a passing-by stage hand. “Hey you! Go keep an eye on those two. You know the deal, 30 feet back, anything happens, take care of it.”

               The stagehand nodded, and ran to catch the pair.  Bill stared at Dipper curiously as he left.

               “Grunkle Stan has a stagehand or bouncer keep an eye on Mabel and me whenever we go do anything. Especially, during – y’know, that kind of thing, “Dipper explained, barely looking up from the papers on the table, “He’s…protective. As far as I know, Mabel and I are some of his only blood relatives left.”

               Bill nodded with a small hum, turning back to his own papers, while he snuck a hand onto the table, placing it on top of Dipper’s. Stan headed backstage, shaking his head at the two of them.

               “If you two lovebirds need me, I’ll be in my office,” he snorted, “Just finish the paperwork befor-“

               However he was cut off by Soos, who practically sprinted towards him, nearly sliding to a stop in front of him.

               “Mister Pines! The investor’s here!” he panted, leaning on his knees.

               “What the hell is he doing here? Our meeting is tomorrow,” Stan snapped, begrudgingly straightening his tie. “He better have a damn good reason for being here.”

               As if on cue, a young man in light blue with pale hair entered the main hall, looking as proud as a peacock and as if he owned the place. He cast glance around the hall, both disdainful and intrigued, before his eyes settled on Stan.

               “Stanford! I was hoping to see ya! Beg ya pardon for arriving a day earlier than arranged,” he said, upbeat and cheerful as his round face turned up to a smile. Stan forced himself not to frown, and instead smiled back.

               “It’s no trouble at all, Gideon,” he replied, voice slightly pinched. “Though what could be so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow, I would like to know.”

               “I was hoping Mabel would escort me around this…lovely neighborhood, give me a tour, I suppose. I would to know the area a bit better, and perhaps get to know a bit more ‘bout the ‘Mystery Chalet’. It would help with any _investment issues,”_ Gideon answered, slowly walking around the hall, meandering towards Stan. Dipper and Bill silently listened in, sharing a look at the mention of ‘investment issues’.

               “Unfortunately you just missed her,” Stan replied,” She’s out with a friend.”

               “And besides,” Soos added,” she’s mainly into the stage works. Dipper takes care of all that financial stuff.”

               Stan shot Soos a glare as Gideon looked past him towards Dipper.

               “You don’t say,” he hummed, and walked past Stan towards the table,” Well it seems better suited that I should take Dipper then!”

               Dipper’s head snapped towards him in an instant.

               “Wait, I’m…taking care of financial stuff as we speak. Maybe later?” he nervously grinned. Gideon simply waved his hand, as though brushing away the statement.

               “Nonsense! It’ll be there when you get back, and you have your friend here to help…well I’ll be- is that you, Cipher?” Gideon said. “How have you been? What are you doing here?”

               “Fine. I’m a friend of theirs. Still backing out of deals nowadays?” Bill asked, eye not leaving the paperwork for a second, and Dipper could see his jaw tighten.

               “Are ya still bad about that, Bill? It’s ol’ news!”  Gideon shrugged,” I hope you don’t mind me taking Dipper here out for a stroll.”

               “I’m going to go get my coat, I guess,” Dipper replied, slipping past them. Grabbing his grunkle’s attention, he nodded his head in their direction. Stan nodded, and headed over, swinging an arm around Gideon’s shoulders, half leading, half pulling him away from Bill.

               “While you’re waiting for my nephew, how about I show you parts of the main hall that need renovation?”

               Bill glared at the back of Gideon’s head, attempting to quell his anger and ignore the bitter tugging of jealousy on his heart as he took Dipper’s arm and headed out into the streets.

\---

               Mermando’s driver dropped them off at the entrance to the city’s park.  It was in full bloom, a light breeze carrying the smell of flowers with it. Many young couples and families had taken advantage of the lovely day, as well as many vendors and performers. As Mabel and Mermando stepped down from the carriage to the cobble street, one group began playing. A young woman dressed simply stood in front of a violinist, and began to sing.

               " _Des yeux qui font baisser les miens, un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche_ ,” she sang, with an almost wistful look, “ _Voila le portrait sans retouches de l'homme auquel j'appartiens…”_  
  
               Mermando tossed a few coins into the violinist’s case before taking Mabel’s arm, and they both entered the park past it’s tall wrought iron gate with it’s tangled, twisted ivy.

               ‘ _Quand il me prend dans ses bras, il me parle l'a tout bas- Je vois la vie en rose_ ’

               The pair slowly meandered along the parks paths, content not to speak, at least for a little while, as they made their way towards the park’s many small lakes and fish ponds, where many painters and sweet vendors had lined up along their borders. Excited, Mabel tugged them towards one of the smaller ponds, cooing at the bright orange and white fish swimming.

               “Aww, how cute! I wonder what kind of fishies they are!” Mabel said with a large grin.

               “They are koi fish! And a few random Carassius auratus, I mean, Shubunkin,” Mermando replied with a small wince. Mabel stared at him, jaw dropped. “What?”

               “Since when did you know fish science?” she laughed.

               “I’m from a small country that supports many aquatic creatures on its beaches and waters,” he replied as they continued their on their way,” I have always been interested in marine life- I would’ve loved to have become a marine biologist.”

               “Why don’t you? You seem to really like it,” Mabel replied.

               “I have to take over after my father in our…family business, I’m afraid. So while I enjoy it and would prefer to ensue it, duty comes first,” he sighed, “And he said I have to so…”

               “I think that’s really, well, brave of you Mermando,” she replied, gently squeezing his arm. He looked down at her, surprised.

               “Really?”

               She hummed in response, nodding her head. He felt his cheeks grow warm, and turned his head away from her, hoping she wouldn’t see. His eyes fell upon a small cropping of rose bushes, and with a quick glance around, hurriedly lead them over to it.

               “Mermando? What are you doing?” Mabel laughed as he held a finger up to his lips. He reached over to one of the bushes, and snapped one off the roses before leading them away from them. With a shy smile, he offered it to her. She smiled, cheeks red, and pressed one hand to her cheek.

               “You scamp,” she scolded mockingly, tucking it into her hat to hide amongst the silk copies.  He couldn’t help but laugh.

               ‘ _Il est entré dans mon coeur, une part de bonheur dont je connais la cause…’_

The two strolled through the park, talking about whatever caught their fancy, admiring the park in its full bloom state, and at Mabel’s insistence at various ponds, fish.

               “That one’s a…red cap goldfish, right?” Mabel guessed, gesturing towards a fish close to the surface.

               “Yes!” Mermando exclaimed,” And the one next to it is a…”

               “Flagfish?”

               “Correct again! I am impressed,” he replied, carefully wrapping an arm around her shoulder as she leaned forward over the water. “Careful!”

               “Oh, I’ll be fine! I just want to get a closer look at its coloration,” she chirped with a casual shrug.

               “Hey, can you two move?” a sudden voice called out, startling the two of them. Mermando quickly pulled Mabel away from the water. “If you stand there any longer I’m going to have to add you to my painting!”

               They turned to see a painter, maybe in his early 20s, staring at them from behind a canvas. He looked like a caricature of a stereotypical painter-paint spattered shirt, beret cocked to the side, and paint smudged along the side of his cheek, and in his blond ponytail. 

               “Ooh! Can we see it?” Mabel excitedly asked, dragging Mermando with her.

               “If it will get you to move,” the painter sighed, and moved back a bit to make room for them, “It’s not done yet.”

               “I see you really like Fragonard!” Mabel observed. “You really borrow from him palette and composition wise. But your shadows are more Caravagionist than anything. It’s nice, but the colors you use in the shadows make no sense with the subject and detract from the overall painting.”

               Both Mermando and the painter looked at her slack jawed, the painter more confused than anything.

               “Wha…well, what do you even know about painting anyway?” he snipped, roughly picking up his canvas and walking away.

               “Apparently more than he does,” Mermando said. “I had no idea you-“

               “Have crazy knowledge about art history and movements? That I do,” she said with a large grin. “That and I paint too, so it helps to know all that stuff anyway.”

               “Really? I would love to see your work!” he gushed.

               “It’s not that good,” she replied, rubbing her arm, and found herself blushing again.

               “I would still like to,” he replied,” if that is alright?”

               “I don’t see why not. It’s getting a bit late anyway; we should head back,” Mabel said. He nodded, and took her arm.

               ‘ _C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie. Il me l'a dit, l'a jure pour la vie…’_

\---

               They entered the Chalet unnoticed, as everyone was busy prepping for that night’s performance. Mabel quietly led him up to the second floor, and entered the third door down the hall. It led into a small, brightly colored bedroom. In the center of the room was a small table with two overstuffed chairs and a floral, canopy bed stood in the corner, covered in pillows.  Next to it stood a large dressing table, covered in make-up and trinkets, and various art supplies ranging from pencils to needle and thread.  On the other side of the room was a large wardrobe, almost bursting from the clothing stuffed in it, and leaning on it was an easel. Next to them was a row of paintings.

               “They’re all here,” Mabel said, pointing to the row, “Go and look!”

               Mermando nodded and removed his hat, placing it on the table before moving to flip through the canvases. Mabel watched him from her mirror as she removed her hat and gloves, putting them on the dresser. She carefully plucked the rose from its hiding spot in her hat, placing it in a cup of water.

               “Mabel, these are fantastic!”

               “You like them?” she said, turning around. He was holding one of her smaller paintings in his hand.

               “Yes! It’s some of the best I’ve seen,” he replied,” I love this one of the sunset.  It feels…alive.”

               “I climbed up to the roof for that one! I had to paint really fast to get it. It was so much fun,” she giggled. “It’s one of my favorites.”

               “You are very talented,” he said, smiling as he handed the painting to her. “Thank you for letting me see your work. “

               “Well, I’m glad that you…liked it,” she stilted, staring up at his face. The lighting in her room and the silky sheen of his hair were irresistible.  He looked at her quizzically.

               “Mabel, are you alright?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded, biting her lip.

               “Yeah, I’m fine, but- this is going to sound weird, maybe- can I draw you?” she asked, nervous.

               “Oh! Um, Why not?” he quickly responded, face quickly turning red once again.

               “If you have somewhere to go or something, I- wait, you said yes?” she exclaimed. He nodded, and she grinned from ear to ear, and gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs.  As he sat, she quickly grabbed a pad of paper and a pencil from her desk and sat across from him.

               “Do you want me to do anything or…?”

               “Nope! Just still sort of still, but not stiff!”

               He nodded once again, resolving to be the stillest but not stiffest he could be. She started to quickly sketch him, eyes darting back and forth from him and the paper. The short, quick strokes of the pencil began to slow to longer ones, and her eyes lingered on him for a while before returning to the drawing. Mermando felt a lock of hair slip in front of his face, covering his right eye.  Mabel looked up right as it fell, and giggled, placing the pad on the table and tucking the pencil behind her ear.

               “Here, I got it,” she said leaning forward to brush the hair from his face, fingers gently tracing over his temple, and he couldn’t help but stare at her. Feeling his eyes on her, she looked from the lock of hair to him, locking his gaze with hers. Without really thinking, Mermando leaned forward, softly pressing his lips against the corner of her mouth- an all too shy and chaste kiss.  He pulled away a second later, averting his gaze away, and running a hand through his hair.

               “I’m…I have…I should…I’ll see you tonight?” Mabel stuttered, half shocked and positively delighted, as she leaned back from him. He swallowed, nodding, and quickly grabbed his hat from the table.

               “Yes! I’ll see you later then,” he agreed breathlessly, heading towards the door. “It was a pleasure to spend the day with you.”

               “Oh, um, yes! I had a great time. Thank you,” she replied, opening the door. He exited, briefly looking back before she closed the door, and gave a quick wave. She waved back, ignoring the pounding in her chest as she closed the door, and leaned against it, sighing contentedly.

               ‘ _Et, des que je l'aperçois, alors je sens en moi mon coeur qui bat’_

\---

               As soon as the show was over that night, Bill swept Dipper away to his apartments, miles away from the Mystery Chalet.


	6. Tu Vas Me Detruire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are patched up and Gideon plots.
> 
> songs: Tu Vas Me Detruire by David Lavoie, You're the One that I Want by Lo-Fang, and 17 Boats Against The Current And Daisy's Theme from the Great Gatsby.

              The next morning, Dipper woke up pleasantly sore and contented and tangled in soft, silk-like sheets. He turned over to where Bill had been hours before-hand, only to find the space empty, but still warm. He groggily rolled up to a sitting position, rubbing his eyes, and swung his legs off the bed, wrapping on the sheets behind around him and made his way to the bedroom door. If he remembered correctly from the very quick, very _brief_ tour of Bill’s apartment the night before, his office was just down the hall, and would probably be the best place to find him.

               And he was right. Bill was hunched over a mahogany desk in front of a large window, the late morning light filtering through onto him. His normally slicked back hair was tousled, framing his face, and he looked like he had just tossed on the shirt and pants from the night before. He was busy reading over and signing various papers, and didn’t hear Dipper enter the study.  Bill suddenly felt hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing at the muscle.

               “Mm,” he grunted, turning his head slightly to the side, smiling up at his lover,” You’re awake.”

               “I woke up and you weren’t there. So I decided to investigate your disappearance,” Dipper replied, leaning close to his ear,” I was hoping to continue where last night lest off.”

               “I was hoping to finish all this and return before you woke up,” Bill laughed in reply, “Since someone kept me from it yesterday.”

               Dipper let out an ‘hmpf’, before flopping onto Bill’s lap, throwing an arm around his shoulders to support himself, and snatched one of the papers from the desk, quickly reading it over.  Bill attempted to grab it back, only for Dipper to move it from his reach.  He sighed, and buried his face into Dipper’s neck. Dipper leaned his head on top of his, gently squeezing his shoulder.

               “Listen,” Dipper said softly,” I know.  I know how you’re probably feeling and I’m- I’m really sorry. But please, don’t be jealous.”

               “I’m not,” he mumbled into his neck, gripping Dipper tightly as though he were going to disappear.

               “I could feel the glare you were giving Gideon,” Dipper chuckled before growing soft again. “This is only temporary- just until he gives us the money we need. Sure, Mabel, Stan and I will have to cater to him for a while, but trust me- none of us, especially me, really care for him. He’s kind of…”

               He trailed off, trying to find the correct word for him. Unsettling crossed his mind a few times.

               “I know what you mean,” Bill said, moving his head back. “And you don’t have to explain. I understand completely. It doesn’t mean I have to like it though.”

               Dipper laughed, leaning his forehead against Bill’s. He quickly pressed a peck on his nose and leaned back, examining the document once again.

               “You know, if you change the wording here, you create a pretty good loophole for yourself and get a few more bucks out of this deal,” he said, pointing to a phrase on the paper. Bill scanned it, pulling Dipper closer to get a better view of the paper.

               “Huh. You’re right,” Bill replied, grabbing a pen from the desk, and sloppily scribbled a circle around it. Dipper grinned, placing it back on the desk.

               “Stan is a con-man, so I suppose I learned from the best,” Dipper mentioned, positioning himself so he was straddling Bill. He gently ran a hand down his face with a sigh, lightly tracing around the eyepatch. Bill grabbed his hand, leaning into the touch.  “I don’t mean to pry, or anything, but, how…how did you-“

               “Lose my eye?” Bill answered,” Not much of a story, to be honest. A deal went bad after a…partner pulled out and I was somehow the scapegoat. I didn’t expect this” he lazily gestured at the patch “to happen. Usually there’s someone else to take the fall.”

               Dipper frowned, running a thumb over the small, silvery pink scar the peeked out from under the patch.

                “May I…”

               “I-if you want. Nothing much there except scar tissue and a mangled eye.”

               Dipper nodded, and untied the patch, carefully removing it and placing it behind him on the desk, and turned back. Bill hadn’t been exaggerating. Pink scar tissue contrasted with Bill’s dark tan skin, looking like a mottled web over his skin. His eye was a blotchy gray, and if he looked closely enough, he could make out faint jagged lines- more scars. It was hard to believe, or even imagine, if Dipper was honest, that it was once as golden as the other one.  He winced, gingerly tracing the scars that ran down onto his cheek.

               “Oh Bill…I…” Dipper murmured, watching as Bill cast his gaze away- from embarrassment or regret he couldn’t tell.  He leaned forward, gingerly pressing kiss after kiss over the scars, feeling Bill’s cheek go warm.

               “What are you doing?”

               “Kissing it better,” Dipper said between kisses,” I know it won’t help but-“

               Bill had grabbed his chin, lowering his face to kiss him, pulled away with a faint smile.

               “It did,” he whispered, going back to kiss him more, but Dipper stopped him.

               “You have paperwork to do, remember? You know where I’ll be,” he said, sliding off his lap, bed sheet trailing behind him. 

               “What no it’s fine,” Bill stated, watching as he lingered at the door for a second,” Wait, are you wearing one of my sheets?”

               “ You just noticed? Wow,” he answered, disappearing a few feet into the hallway,” And nothing else.”

               There was a rustle of cloth, and Bill could only watch as the bed sheet reappeared in front of his door, sans Dipper.

               The paperwork could wait.

\--

               Gideon rode through the streets back home from his meeting with Stanford, paperwork settled and everything in its proper place. Except for the two empty seats across from him.

               He wouldn’t call himself selfish, or greedy- he just had a way of getting what he wanted most of the time.  But he wouldn’t call himself all too patient either. It would only be a manner of time before he had them both; a matching set.  Until then, he would have to be content to watch them dance and sing for the masses, even with his own requests. As long as he was pumping money into the shack they call a club, he had control.   

               The two little merchants of illusion would have to submit eventually, no matter what resistance they had now. It was all a matter of a carefully placed word, a favor or two. Hell, he might even be able to persuade their uncle in his favor.

               But Bill had blindsided him. As long as he was buddy-buddy with them, his plans could fail.  He was still bitter about the eye incident, which was somewhat understandable. But it was Bill’s own fault for not securing the deed he needed quick enough. It was in his own best interests to pull out of the deal, which did leave Bill to take the heat.  Not that he cared, to be honest.  It had no ill effect on him, and Bill could easily be taken care of.  

               Dipper and Mabel were the only things on his mind.

              


	7. Dans Mon Coeur Brisé

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mermando tells the truth and Dipper dances.
> 
> Song: Young and Beautiful - Vintage 1920's Lana Del Rey / Great Gatsby Soundtrack Cover by Postmodern Jukebox (I was tempted to use Adios by Ricky Martin or Teeth by Lady Gaga in this chapter, not gonna lie, but I preferred the beat of the cover of Young and Beautiful. But I'm seriously reconsidering Adios for some reason. I'll sleep on it. But this chapter was fun to write!)

               Mermando stared at the letter in his hands, wanting nothing more than to crumple it, rip it to shreds, and burn it, just so he would never have to look at it.  But it bore his family crest, and was, unfortunately urgent, reminding him of duties he had long since wanted to abandon and forget.

               Which gave him all the more reason to never want to look at it.

               “Mermando? You alright? You look like you just broke your rib,” Mabel softly said from a few feet away, comfortably sitting with a sketch pad resting on her lap. She had insisted on finishing her sketch of him, convincing him to let her over to his small, but cozy apartments across town. And by convincing, she simply stated that she was going over to finish what she started and kissed him unabashedly on the cheek.  How could he say no?

               “It is…nothing, Mabel. Just a letter from my father,” he replied, faintly smiling.  She looked at him quizzically, one eyebrow raised, but shrugged.

               “Alright. I’m almost done, by the way, if you want to come look. It’s pretty good, if I do say so myself,” she said, brushing the paper slightly. “I do have a nice model to work from.”

               He laughed, springing up from his chair to walk over to her side, leaning over her shoulder to peer at her work.  It was an amazing likeness of him, and he felt as though he was looking at a photograph.

               “This is fantastic!” he exclaimed, “You are quite talented. Never have I seen anything like it. You give Holbein a run for his money.”

               “Oh stop that,” she laughed, waving her hand,” I still have to put some finishing touches on it, but I left the pencil I needed back in my room. I guess I’ll just have to come back again.”

               “You’re welcome here whenever you wish,” he replied, turning his head towards her. She snapped towards him in response, surprised and blushing.

               “Are you- Are you serious?”

               “Well, yes!” Mermando said. “I know our time together has been brief, but I feel very strongly for you- It’s a feeling I’m not quite sure I’ve felt before.”

               “That’s…the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Mabel replied, smiling ear to ear. “Mermando, you dork!”

               She through her arms around his neck, sketchbook precariously resting on her lap. He froze, slowly melting into the embrace, realizing that it was now or never. He pulled away, face drawn into a small, pensive frown as he tried to figure out the words, and kneeled down next to her, resting one hand delicately on hers. Mabel looked at him in confusion, as he did so, mind running through any situations that would have him like this.

               “Mabel, I…what I’m trying to say is…Run away with me.”

               Her hand flew to her chest in surprise, jaw dropping and face going red. The same question had been asked of her before, a dozen, maybe a hundred times, but this time her mouth went dry and she felt her heart in her throat, and she struggled to come up with something intelligible to say.

               “I know this is very sudden, and probably extremely forward, but I can no longer live the life my family wants me to lead. It’s one without you, and has me going down a path I no longer want part of,” he prattled, staring at her hand in his. “And if this is not something you want, please say so, and I’ll-“

               He paused when he felt her hand on his cheek, drawing his gaze up to her face. She was smiling, and he could see tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

               “Yes. Yes! I’ll run away with you!” she exclaimed, kneeling down across from him, drawing left on the chair. She took both of his hands in hers, holding them close.  “But what about your family? Aren’t they expecting you to come back once you’re done studying?”

               “They want me back now,” he said quietly. “That’s what the letter was about. I haven’t been completely honest, and I beg forgiveness before I continue.”

               “What do you mean?”

               “I do have to return to take over after my father, but it is not a business. It’s a government. I’m supposed to be crowned king in a month’s time,” he sighed, eyes moving at the letter on the desk. Even from his positon on the floor he could see the bright red seal on the bottom of the page.  He felt the grip on his hands tighten for a second.

               “So what you’re saying is- you’re a-a prince?” Mabel gasped. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

               “I haven’t told anyone! Only Bill, and now you, know. I was nervous of the attention it would have garnered me if it known. I wanted to have a sense of anonymity while here- a chance for a clean slate,” he said. “To make friends who weren’t after position, or money, and maybe even fall in love with someone of my choosing…”

               “Wait, what does that mean? Are you engaged? “Mabel exclaimed, holding his hands tighter.

               “Well, yes! But it is not for love! It’s for politics and to stop the potential threat of a war, but I don’t care!” he replied, worried as Mabel suddenly dropped his hands, looking at him in disbelief.

               “I can’t believe you! One day you talk about how it’s your duty, and now, after you get a letter telling you to face them, you suddenly confess your love and ask me to run away? How do I know I’m not just a scapegoat for you to escape?” She raged, standing up with her hands clenched to her sides. “How could you abandon your country? Your family?”

               “Mabel, please,” he pleaded, gingerly grabbing her hand from her side. “It is eating me away to think about what this might do to them, but I’d rather run away from it all and have you by my side than to run a country where I’m a pawn in a loveless marriage. Please believe me.”

               She stared down at him with a pained, but angry look on her face, and pulled her hand away. With tears starting to pool she turned away from him, grabbing her sketchbook and heading to the door.

               “I…I’m going. Goodbye, Mermando,” she whispered, lingering a second in the doorway. But before he could beg her to stay, or do anything, she was gone in a flash of pink skirts, the click of her heels echoing in her absence.

               He stood, and numbly walked to the desk. He picked up the letter, and tossed into the fireplace.

\---

               Grunkle Stan walked into the dressing room, hurriedly looking for his niece and nephew, the words waiting on his tongue turning sour and peeved. If he didn’t dislike Gideon before, he sure as hell didn’t now.

               “Dipper, Mabel! Where the heck are you?”

               “Hey, Mr. Pines. They’re in Mabel’s room. She not feeling too well,” Wendy called, peeking her head from behind the curtain to the backstage.  “Also, you need to sign off on the liquor delivery.”

               “Fine, fine, whatever, just…forge my signature or something. I need to talk to them,” he said, pushing past her. She nodded, jotting his name down on the paper, and watched as he ran up the stairs, knowing, unfortunately, what was on his mind. Word passed quickly through the stagehands.

\---

               Mabel sobbed on her brother’s chest as he patted her back, looking sympathetically over at Candy and Grenda, who rubbed her hand and offered her water, respectively.

               “I don’t even know what to think anymore,” she panted, wiping her eyes. “He pretty much said he loved me, and would abandon his country for me, but I still feel like I’m being used for a reason to run away from his responsibilities…what if he realizes that he doesn’t actually love me or-or-or-“

               She broke down in tears again, and Dipper decided right then to eventually punch Mermando in the face for making her cry like this. There was a soft knock on the door.

               “Come in,” Mabel croaked, sitting up as Grunkle Stan came in. Seeing her blotchy face he hurried over to her, arms protectively wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest.

               “What happened? Are you okay sweetie? Who do I have to murder?” He asked, looking over at Dipper and the girls for an answer. Before any of them could answer, Mabel spoke, pushing away.

               “No one Grunkle Stan. I’m just feeling really sick and I guess it’s just making my emotions go haywire,” she replied quickly with a slightly pointed look.

               “Oh,” he replied, standing. “You just, uh, you just take the night off, okay? Rest up. Dipper, can we talk out in the hallway?”

               Dipper nodded, quickly rubbing his sister’s shoulder before following Stan out into the hallway. Once the door was shut, Stan turned to him, and Dipper was sure he was going to be questioned.

               “I know Mabel isn’t telling the truth,” he stated. “And I’m going to talk to her later. But right now, I need to tell you something important, and I know you are not going to like it.”

               “What? What’s wrong? If it’s the paperwork that’s an easy fix-“

               “No, it isn’t the paperwork- that shit’s fine,” Stan replied, waving his hand as though to brush it away. “Look, it’s about the performance. You know I hate to cater to investors, and I know you hate it too, but we have to do it anyway.”

               “Lemme guess- Gideon,” Dipper sighed, crossing his arms. “And what does he want?”

               “He wants a fucking striptease,” he replied, pulling a cigar and a thing of matches from his pocket. “And requested one of you guys. I swear to god he’s obsessed with you two or something. Believe me I tried to suggest some of the other dancers-“He lit the cigar, gently puffing on it. ”But he insisted it be one of you.  Unfortunately that one is you.”

               Dipper groaned, leaning against the wall. Of all the performances- it was like a lap dance without clothes, and the patrons always were grabby as hell. Not to mention Bill would be there, and he couldn’t go to him during the climax of the song.

               “I know,” Stan sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “It’s a quick song and you don’t have to go back on for the night. Go talk to the band and costuming- we only have a few hours. I’m- I feel awful about this.”

               “I know,” Dipper said, faintly smiling at him. “It’s just until we have what we need, right?”

               “Yeah,” the older man replied, smiling back, clapping him on the shoulder before he returned to backstage proper, and Dipper disappeared back into Mabel’s room.

\---

               Mermando looked like a kicked puppy, and while Bill felt sorry for him, given his predicament, he also drew some sort of ironic humor from it.  But the boy kept on sighing and it was getting pathetic.

               “I swear if you sigh one more time…,” Bill exclaimed, turning his attention from the window of the cab to his companion.” Look, you kind of had this coming. If you had told her sooner, and maybe even eased into it better, you wouldn’t be in this mess! And you have to admit, it’s kind of ironic how you have a fiancée you want nothing to do with, and the girl you’re in love with currently wants nothing to do with yo-“

               “I know, alright?” Mermando snapped. “You don’t think I’ve thought of that already? I wish I could just talk to her more! I know that this is an awful situation I’ve put both of us in, but I can fix it!”

               “How? By abdicating and leaving your country to fall under attack? Or shoving your engagement unto your younger brother? What is he, 12?” Bill snapped back. “Or maybe your original plan or running away like in some-some fairytale?!?”

               “I- I know there has to be a way to break the engagement and start better relations with the Queen of Trichechus. And Mabel and I-“

               “I’m sorry to say this, but do you think your family will let you marry her?” Bill asked.

               “Would yours let you marry Dipper?”

               Bill froze. “They have nothing to do with us. But you’re-“

               “Royalty? I am very aware, Bill,” he replied sullenly as the cab rolled to a stop in front of the Chalet. “But my family has nothing to do with Mabel and I either.”

\---

               Dipper nervously fidgeted with his necktie, staring apprehensively into the mirror as he did so. He was dressed like he was going out to a ball, from the elegant white silk shirt and tie to the red satin waistcoat and black tuxedo jacket and gloves. Mabel sat next to him, wrapped in an oversized silk robe, and patted him on the back.

               “If you want, I can take over for you,” she said, and he glanced over at her with a smile.

               “It’s fine. Besides, I’m all dressed for the occasion and you’re sick, remember?” Dipper replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. “And you did the last one, so.”

               “Okay. You’re sure?” she asked, pointedly staring at him. He nodded, and turned back to the mirror, running a hand through his hair.

               “If you want, Dipper, I can do it,” Candy piped from behind a dressing screen. She mock sang a quick tune, waving a petticoat in the air above her.  Dipper and Mabel couldn’t help but laugh, especially when it flew out of her hand to land on another dancer’s head.  He clutched his sides at the distressed and somewhat peeved look on her face when she threw it back over the screen. Candy slowly peeked over, and shyly waved in apology.  Wendy walked in, and quickly waved at Dipper before coming over to lean on a table.

               “You’re on in five. You ready, Dip?” she asked, fingers drumming on the surface. 

               “I’ll be the wings in a minute. Is-“

               “Bill here? Yeah. I delivered the note when he sat down. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” she answered, pushing off the table and heading towards the curtain. “I have to go make sure everything is all set. Break a leg.”

\---

               Bill crumpled the paper in his hands, and glared at Gideon, who he had the displeasure of having a perfect view of from his seat.  Mermando was nursing a sloe gin fizz, and looked at him and the paper.

               “Not another invitation, I presume,” he said, still somewhat bitter from their earlier argument, staring down into his drink before pushing it aside. “I don’t think I’ll be drinking tonight.”

               “I feel I’ll do the same,” Bill replied, shoving the letter into his pocket.  He looked over at his companion, who had turned his stare to the stage. “Look, no hard feelings right? It’s just-“

               “I know life isn’t a fairytale Bill. Believe me, I am aware,” he stated, looking back at him. “But sometimes you have to have a storybook moment, or moments. And if I can achieve even just one, I’ll be alright. And yes, no hard feelings.”

               Before Bill could respond the house lights went dim, and the band slowly transitioned into a slow, jazzy song.  There seemed to be a palpable pause hanging in the air as the velvet curtains peeled back, revealing Dipper, dressed to the nines and looking out of place. Bill knew him well enough to tell that he didn’t enjoy this, being center stage and gussied up, despite the extreme look of sultry calm on his features- eyes attentive and wary, mouth crooked into a roguish half-smile. He sauntered downstage, hip swaying to the beat.

               “ _I've seen the world, done it all, had my cake now_ ,” he sang, slowly slipping off his gloves, and tossing them one by one into the audience, much to the crowd’s cheer, before beginning to unbutton his jacket. “ _Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel Air now. Hot summer nights, mid-July, when you and I were forever wild…The crazy days, city lights, the way you'd play with me like a child…”_

He let the jacket slide off his shoulders to the ground, turning to kick it upstage towards the curtain, and quickly turned back to the audience, flinging his hat into the fray. His hands moved to his waistcoat, nimbly undoing the buttons.

               “ _Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul_?” he crooned, tossing the garment behind him to join the jacket. He undid the tie around his neck, but tangled it in his fingers instead of throwing it to the crowd, and moved to the buttons on his shirt, slowly revealing inch by inch of his chest. “ _I know you will, I know you will, I know that you will…Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful_?”

               Dipper began to move off the stage and onto the floor, weaving between the multiple tables and patrons as he shrugged the shirt off his shoulder. Members of the audience reached out to grab the article off him and run their hands down his chest and arms, but were either stopped by stagehands posted around the floor, or he moved out of their reach.  He flung the shirt back towards the stage and continued singing, ignoring that it was grabbed from the air, and that the grabbing hands were back.

               “ _I've seen the world, lit it up as my stage now.  Channeling angels in the new age now…Hot summer days, rock 'n' roll-the way you play for me at your show! And all the ways I got to know your pretty face and electric soul_ ,” Dipper sang, running a hand down a random patron’s face, but his eyes were directly on Bill, not breaking the gaze until into the next stanza, when he had to turn away from him.

               Bill stared right back, mouth set in a straight line, unsure of really what to do. Nod and give a small smile to say he was alright? It really wasn’t with him, if he was completely honest, but he couldn’t just frown and scowl at Dipper- it wasn’t as though he had a choice.  He felt something akin to relief when he had to turn away, but it was intermingled with, as much as he tried to repress it, jealousy.

               Especially now when members of the audience were pawing at him, tugging at his last remaining article of clothing as he continued singing. But Bill couldn’t hear the words, instead staring down anyone who grabbed at his lover, praying to god his glare would strike them down.  He watched as Dipper’s pants slid down his legs to a crescendo of cheers, revealing a thin black and gold belt around his middle, scantily covering him. He shimmied around the tables, the little golden dangling charms glittering in the light the followed him. Bill felt a tug in his chest as Dipper went over to Gideon, straddling him as he sat back in his seat. Dipper took the tie, and flung it over his head to rest on his neck, pulling Gleeful closer as he gyrated his hips to the rhythm. Bill could barely see the little troll, but from what he could, he had a triumphant little smirk on his face as he placed his hands on Dipper’s waist- a completely unnecessary movement, and Bill could see the almost unnoticeable tenseness in Dipper’s shoulders as a result.

               “ _Dear god, when I get to heaven, please let me bring my man! When he comes tell me that you'll let him in, Father tell me if you can! Oh that grace, oh that body! Oh that face makes me wanna party…He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds_ ,” Dipper sang, springing away from Gideon almost a little too quickly, leaving the tie dangling around his shoulders.

               “ _Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful? Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul? I know you will, I know you will,_ _I know that you will!”_ He sauntered back to the stage, twisting and spinning past tables and crowds, batting at anyone who grabbed at the glittering belt. Stagehands broke into the crowds, forcing them to disperse as Dipper leapt onto the stage. He moved to center stage, swaying his hips back and forth, slowly moving upstage towards the curtain.

               _“Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful? Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful?”_ he belted the last note, arms stretching out to the audience, and the curtain closed, hiding Dipper behind its broad expanse.


	8. When Words Fail You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young lovers talk and plan, and another sees flames.  
> (song: The Bryan Ferry Orchestra - Love Is Τhe Drug [20's Jazz Version])  
> Happy Valentine's day!  
> Since I love you guys, here's a link to the youtube playlist for Joie de Vivre. Some songs are for atmosphere, i.e. the one above, some are featured in-fic. https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLC0pzYsS8viqeLHI23XjZg1zM0zVgS_-d

               Bill watched the curtain fall, and before it even stopped its light swaying he was out of his chair, shoving through crowds of people to the backstage entrance. Mermando struggled to keep up, half-concerned with his friend’s safety, and half-wanting to get backstage himself.  However, he lost him as soon as he went through the door, and had no clue where he could’ve gone so quickly. He looked around for any sign of Bill, and upon seeing there was none, he snuck his way past stagehands and dancers alike to the stairs, cautious and wary for the outcome of this venture.              

               Meanwhile Bill had already made it up the few flights of stairs to the attic- Dipper’s room.  He had said in the note that it was where he would be when the performance was over. Bill turned the knob and swung open the door, probably a little more forcefully than he wanted if he were to be honest.  Dipper, who seemed to have just entered the room himself, spun around, still dressed in the golden belt, startled by the sudden noise. When he saw it was Bill, he relaxed for a second, but tensed upon seeing Bill’s frown, and matched it with his own.

               “Bill,” Dipper said.” You read the note- you know exactly what was going to happen tonight. “

               “I did,” Bill said, sounding somewhat despondent. “I know you didn’t have a choice. I just-”

               “And you know just as well what you were getting into with me,” Dipper interjected. “You- you can’t be jealous.”

               “Okay, yes! I’m upset! I’m jealous! I hated seeing all those hands on you, especially that little troll’s. That’s nothing I can help, Dipper!” he replied. “I don’t want to lose you.”

               “I’m not something to be gained or lost,” he said,” But that’s beside the point. It wouldn’t happen, Bill…We just have to put up with all of this for a little longer.”

               He walked up to Bill, and pressed himself into the other’s chest, and wrapped his arms around him. Bill did the same, burying his nose into curly brown locks.  Dipper was right-he wouldn’t lose him, they just had to be patient- but he wished he had some sort of omniscient ability to assure himself that all would be fine. He couldn’t lose Dipper to Gideon, not like his eye.  Dipper was something more central to his core.

               He felt Dipper shift, gently pulling away. He moved his head, and noticed the playful smirk on his face.

               “You know,” he murmured,” I don’t have to go on for the rest of the night…and I’m still wearing one last piece…”

               Bill felt him grind his hips against him, and his eye darted down to the remaining golden belt and back up to Dipper’s face.

               “Well then,” he said, smirking as he moved his hands down to the garment’s edge, lightly splaying his fingers over his skin. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?”

               ---

               Mermando stood in front of Mabel’s door, one hand raised to knock, but whenever he went to rap his knuckles upon it, he stopped, millimeters from the wooden surface. He bit his lip, and, steeling his courage, lightly knocked. A quiet voice answered.

               “Come in.”

               Taking a deep breath, he turned the door knob, and slowly opened the door.  Mabel looked up from her bureau for a second before turning back to the book in her hands, then quickly snapped back to Mermando’s worried face.  She angrily pouted, narrowing her eyes as turned back to her book.

               “Please leave, Mermando,” she said monotonously. He quickly entered, and softly closed the door. He practically ran to her side, kneeling down and resting his hands on her arm.

               “Mabel, please, listen to me. I implore you!” he begged, pleadingly looking up at her.

               “No, you listen to me,” she said, quickly standing, dropping her book on the bureau and nearly knocking Mermando over. “I don’t care for your pretty words, or that you didn’t tell the full truth and that you want to run away from an arranged marriage- though I guess I can understand that- but when you involve me it feels a lot like-like-“

               She choked back a sob, rushing to turn away from him, but he grabbed her hand, gently rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. He stood, not letting go of her hand.

               “I know it sounds,” He paused for a moment, “fishy, but I swear, Mabel, my feelings for you are true, and even if I wasn’t in this situation, I would have asked you to run away with me. You are not, nor would you ever be, some sort of scapegoat. I promise to you that I will figure out a way to fix this.”

               “Mermando, how? “She sighed, looking expectantly at him.

               “We’ll elope, but not exactly,” he said, mind racing. “We’ll stay in Gravity Falls, and then, in a month when I have to go back to be crowned, I present you and our marriage to my parents and the Queen of Trichechus and forge some sort of alliance without-“

               Mabel cut him off, gently pressing her hand to his cheek.

               “Do you really think they’ll accept me as your wife? And how do you know it will all work out like this? It’s not as if we live in some fairytale world- Wait- did you say ‘marriage’?”

               “They won’t have a choice in the matter- either they do or I abdicate. And yes, I did,” he said, falling down to one knee. “I know that maybe we aren’t in a fairytale, believe me, I’m aware. But it doesn’t mean we can’t live like it is…Will you marry me?”

               “I-I don’t know what to say…just, promise me you aren’t just trying to save yourself by using me, please,” she murmured. He nodded, gently kissing her hand.

               “I swear.”

               “Then yes,” she said, faintly smiling. He stood, quickly wrapping his arms around her waist, dipping her low and kissing her, despite the bright blush across his cheeks. Mabel let out a muffled squeak in surprise at the move, but settled into the kiss, draping her arms over his shoulders. After a few seconds, they pulled away, breathless.

               “Does this mean I’ll be a princess? With a tiara and everything?”

               “A queen, actually, if all goes to plan.  Bigger tiara.”

               “Oh sweet!”

               ----

               So that was how it was.

               Gideon had felt Bill’s eye on him for almost all of the night. It was no coincidence that he had sat where he had- directly in Bill’s line of sight. He had control of the goings on there, and it was his way of telling him that. But was strange was when the singular eye was not on him, instead staying on Dipper for the entire routine. 

               And he had certainly not missed the glance between the two of them, and how Cipher had snuck his way backstage, eagerly followed by a younger man- a protégé of his, if he remembered correctly. No matter.

               All that he was concerned about was the fact that something that was his- one of his perfect matching pair- was probably in the arms of Bill, doing lord knows what.  That would need to be rectified. But there was no way in hell that Bill would let him anywhere near him or his apartments- not since the eye incident, as messy as it was. Although it was undoubtedly pushing things ahead of where he wanted, Gideon had to make sure that the twins knew their place- as his and his alone, whether they liked it or not.

               Of course there would some resistance, of course. Mabel was a fighter, but had her weak points – one of course, saying no- and Dipper would be right there to stand up for her and himself, forever stubborn and just as much a fighter as he sister. But he doubted that they wanted to see their home, their ‘club’, literally everything, go down in flames.

               He had quite the way with words sometimes.


	9. Little Runaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two separate plans are made.

               “Mermando and I are eloping.”

               The news had been welling up in her since the night before, and in finally saying them Mabel felt a weight move off of her chest and into the air in front of her dressing mirror.  She froze immediately afterwards, realizing that she was in the dressing hall, and hoped that no one had heard her. She didn’t want word to spread, and if anyone had heard it, she would expect it to have reached the patrons in the Mezzanine within the hour.  Fortunately almost all the dancers and stagehands were already on the floor, in the wings, or too far away for them to have heard.

               Except for her brother, who had just as equally frozen right next her, half-way through brushing back his hair. He slowly turned his head towards her, eyes wide.

               “Wait, what?” he stammered quietly. “Mabel!”

               “I didn’t say anything what.”

               “Mabel! After what happened yesterday you’re still going to run off with him?” Dipper said, throwing the brush onto the counter and stepped closer to her. “What if he’s just using you?”

               “I know, I know!” she said, holding up her hands in defense. “But he’s not. I believe him, Dipper. We’re figuring everything out – completely - tonight.  Trust me, it’s all going to be fine!”

               “This is a bad idea! I know it sounds good right now, but what if-“

               “Dipper, this is the first time I’ve ever really fallen in love!  And no horror story told by other dancers, or worst case scenario cooked up by you, is going to scare me out of this,” she sighed, looking around her. “I can’t stay here forever. It’s been out home since we were 12, and I love this place, but I can’t stay, and I know you can’t either.”

               “But the club…Stan…,” Dipper started to say, trying to find excuses when he knew she was right. She stood, placing a hand on his shoulders.

               “Will be fine.  There are plenty of dancers that could fill our spot,” she said. “You can’t keep taking the weight of the world, of the Chalet, on your shoulders! What about your dreams? Your flying all around the world, and writing? And now you have Bill too.”

               Dipper looked away from his twin, bringing up a hand to rest on top of hers. As much as he wanted to leave, the thought of it worried him. He knew that once everything and everyone was in the clear it would be alright. But he couldn’t just run away before then.  Mabel grasped his face between her hands, squishing his cheeks together as she turned his head back towards her.

               “If it makes you feel any better, we’re just going to get married and stay in Gravity Falls until he has to go back. So it’s a half-elope! That should be the name of an exhibit…” Mabel said to herself before returning back to Dipper.  “It would be plenty of time for everything to fall into place and it would be safe for us- Me, Mermando, you and Bill- to go and live!”

               “You’re right,” Dipper half-heartedly acquiesced. Mabel smiled.

               “Of course I am!” she chirped, plopping back down into her chair.

               “But you and Mermando will stay for a while, right? You’ll come back after the whole…coronation thing? Maybe he can convince his dad to hold off for a while. Isn’t 24 young to be king?”

               She nodded. “I think so. But, yes, we’ll come back. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”  

               He laughed, and resumed brushing back his hair. A sudden movement from the curtain caught the corner of his eye, and he snapped toward it.  However there was nothing but the sound of feet and the occasional stagehands, and he assumed one of them just brushed against it, and went back to getting ready.

               But it hadn’t been. Gideon quickly made his way back to the dance hall before anyone saw him, a lie in case he was caught on the tip of his tongue, and a clenched fist that would make anyone stay out of his path.

               ‘How dare they. How _dare_ they!’ he thought, his mouth drawing into a tight, thin line.  They were going to run off! And how could they, after all he had done for them and this shack they passed off as a club! First Bill nabbing Dipper, then his charge following suit to steal up the other. He couldn’t really threaten the latter now, seeing as the brat was apparently royalty.

               He slipped back up to the mezzanine, angrily shoving through dancers and other patrons alike.

               He wouldn’t be able to win back Mabel- practically engaged to some prince and about to elope – without some sort of influence. But who? Who would she trust and listen to? Stan was out of the question, and he never really bothered trying to get to know anyone else here other than-

               Dipper.

              Of all the people she would listen too, it would be him. He felt himself smile. From what he could tell, and from the small tidbits his sister had fed him, he could be easy to manipulate. A lie or two, a threat, and maybe few offers he couldn’t refuse. He would have Dipper eating from palm in a matter of hours, and then both of them on his arms, and in his bed soon after.

               Gideon reclined back into the plush seating, and watched as the curtain rose on his runaways.


	10. A Soul for Sale

               Stan was –for lack of a better word- pissed beyond all belief. First he heard rumors of Gideon snooping around backstage like a little snake, and then the boy came into his office not a moment after the Twins came off-stage demanding some ‘private dinner’ with Dipper.

               ‘Y’know Stanford- I really have been focusing almost all of my time on Mabel. Now she is a darlin’ – sweeter’n all the peaches in Georgia, really – but I have been neglectin’ Dipper. I may be a busy man, but I shouldn’t focus all my time on just one!’ Gleeful had said with a laugh- like he owned his family. All Stan could do was force a smile and lie through his teeth, promising to see what he could do to arrange something, when in reality he was going to try to do as little as possible.

               ‘An’ one more thing,’ he had said, just as he was heading out of his office,’ Call off your hound-dogs from followin’ us. It’s downright rude to assume that I am anything less than a gentleman.’

               That sent a chill straight through his bones. Dipper and Mabel were more than capable of defending themselves – he had made sure of that, even before they started dancing in the club. The world was filled with monsters, unlike the stuffed curios he had littered in the parlors of the club, and there was only so much he could do to protect them, and Gideon wanted to strip away one of the only lines of defense he could give them when they were out of arm’s length. Stan thanked whatever-whoever was up there for a moment, happy that Gleeful’s money had started to pour in, and he wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer.

               He slowly made his way to the stage, where he knew his niece and nephew were rehearsing a new number. He didn’t want to tell them anymore of Gideon’s demands; he’d rather lie through his teeth – ‘Sorry, Dipper is not available, Gideon. Maybe another time!’ or ‘No new requests from Gleeful, guys! Don’t worry about the creep this week’. But they had the right to know at least so they could just flat out refuse on their volition. 

               However, only Dipper was onstage, dancing with Bill, who seemed to be enjoying the impromptu dance lesson.

               “Okay, put your hand a little bit lower-Hey! Not that low, mister- hand on my waist!” Dipper laughed as Bill grinned, raising his hand up to his middle. “Now I’m going to hook my leg around you, and then…”

               They spun slowly, Dipper slowly leaning back until he was in a full dip pose. His eyes were closed, and it was one of the few times Stan had seen him look so calm while dancing. Dipper’s eyes opened, staring at his uncle as a blush grew rapidly on his face. He and Bill both scrambled and stumbled to stand straight and side by side.

               “Oh, um, h-i!” Dipped squeaked, before clearing his throat.” Hey Stan. Did you need something?”

               Stan raised an eyebrow, and felt the snarky comment on the tip of his tongue, but swallowed it as he moved closer to the stage.

               “Yeah. It’s the brat again-“Before he could continue, Dipper groaned in exasperation.

               “What does he want? He got a striptease, and multiple dates with Mabel, not to mention us just jerking off his ego every time he’s here!” Dipper listed, stepping closer to Bill, who wrapped a careful arm around his middle.  Stan stayed stone-faced, while he wanted to tell his nephew not to worry about it and to go make-out with his beau, he had to at least tell him.

               “He wants a, uh, private dinner with ya, kid.”

               “Well, he’ll just have to wait, Mabel’s current- wait what,” the boy deadpanned. Bill’s eyes went wide, and he tightened his grip on Dipper.

               “Gideon wants to have a “private dinner” with him? Did you tell him no?” Bill quickly asked, feeling Dipper tense slightly.

               “I wanted to, really, I did. I told him that I’d try to set up something, when in reality, I’d rather not, and tell him to suck an egg,” he replied, holding his hands up in defense, one foot on the stage, the other on the steps. “But we’re in a delicate situation, right now. While the money is coming in, we can postpone the dinner thing for only so long before he gets drastic…”

               Dipper felt Bill tense next to him, and looked at his one singular golden eye and it’s covered, former match. He felt himself swallow a heavy sigh before turning back to his grunkle.

               “Set it up.”

               Bill and Stan both started in unison.

               “No!” Bill snapped before Stan could say the same. “I won’t let you do this.”

               He grabbed Dipper by the shoulders, turning to face him. Dipper set his mouth into a straight line.

               “I decide what I can and cannot do, Bill,” Dipper said. Stan stepped closer.

               “Look, Dipper –kid- you don’t have to do this right now. We can still push it off for as long as possible,” he reasoned, but his nephew shook his head.

               “Let me get this done and over with,” he replied, gently removing himself from Bill’s grasp, but his hands shook.  He turned to move backstage, but he felt his arm grabbed in a tight grip. Dipper looked behind him to see Bill with a stony look on his face.

               “No.”

               “Excuse me?” Dipper snarled. “I-“

               “I know what you said! I’m not going to let you go like some self-sacrificing lamb to slaughter,” Bill exclaimed, pulling him closer. Stan quickly advanced towards them both. “You’re mine!”

               Silence fell. Dipper froze, staring at Bill in shock, before roughly pulling his arm away. Stan rushed forward, grabbing Bill hard by the collar and pulling him back, ignoring the gasps for breath and the fingers digging at his.

               “Is that what I am? An object? Some feeble little lamb with a martyr-complex?” Dipper said loudly, almost shouting as his face contorted into a grimace. “Well let me tell you something, _Cipher_ \- I know what the hell I’m doing, I’ve done this before, and more than likely I’ll end up doing it again!”

               “Dipper-“

               “And another thing…I am not yours. I’m not Gideon’s. I don’t belong to anyone but myself! It’s one of the only things I have in this-this-this _shack_!” Dipper stomped his heel down with a sharp click that echoed through the empty dance hall, and all was silent save for the quiet rustle of curtains and breathe.  Stan bit his lip, averting his gaze away from his nephew.

               “Do you think I asked for any of this?” Dipper asked after a few moments of quiet had passed. “Leave me be. Stan let him go. He knows the way out. And please, just…set up the dumb thing.”

               He turned and walked past the thick velvet curtains, disappearing behind them. Stan let Bill drop, letting him catch up on lost breathe and headed back to his office.  He heard Bill straighten, and take one tentative step towards the curtains.

               “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Stan called over his shoulder. “You really screwed up. Believe me- been there done that.”

               Bill watched as the older man disappeared, just like his nephew into the backstage, and cast one last glance to the curtain before making his way through the wings and curio filled parlors to the bright sun-lit street.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Bout time I updated huh?


	11. Offer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning there is some violence in this chapter. so be careful, friends.

               Mabel had a low feeling in her stomach- a sickening, slowly sinking feeling that gnawed her from the inside out. She bit her lip, staring at her brother as he finished getting dressed in a nice suit through his mirror.  She tucked her legs under her on his bed, leaning backwards onto the wall.

               “You don’t have to do this, Dipper,” she finally said, breaking the silent din in the room. His eyes darted to her before moving back to his tie.

               “I can do this,” he replied. “I’m a big boy- I tie my own shoes and everything.”

               He grinned, then frowned at his tie. “Stupid thing- where is Pacifica when you need her…”

               Pacifica was a childhood friend that visited in secret, and just as secretly was a patron and often times helped with costumes when she visited- mainly ties when it came to him. At that moment, she was halfway across the world in Paris while her parents thought she was at some school in London, as evidenced by her last postcard, covered in a brightly colored landscape of the city.

               Mabel smiled slightly, walking over to her twin and made quick work of his tie.

               “There! You need to do learn this for yourself you big dummy,” she jokingly tided, before hugging him tightly. “Please don’t go. I have a bad feeling….”

               “It’s just once. And it’s for the shack. Since money is coming in, this may well be the last time either of us have to deal with him!” he said reassuringly, but she frowned and shook her head.

               “Why don’t let you just let Bill be a patron? Like, more than just being a regular customer for the show and all that? He is your-“

               “No. People will talk. I mean, like, stage-people,” he said quickly. She sighed.

               “Dipper, most of the time it’s just them joking around. And isn’t Bill just as rich as Gideon?”

               “Yeah, but what if it spreads from backstage and out? I’m surprised your engagement hasn’t spread like wildfire!”

               “That’s because only less than a handful know, Dipper!”

               “And everyone knows about me and Bill! Look,” he replied, pinching his brow,” I don’t really feel up to discussing this right now. I don’t feel like thinking about Bill right now, either, and I have a cab to catch too. I’ll see you later, okay? Say hey to Mermando for me.”

               He pat her shoulder, grabbed his suit coat, and headed downstairs. Mabel frowned once again, watching him as he left. This wasn’t going to be good. Not at all.

\---

               The cab pulled up to a curb in the rich part of or the city. As Dipper descended from it, he quickly recognized the street, knowing that a few blocks down the Northwest estate would be perched on top of a hill, staring down god-like on the streets below. But instead he looked forward to the strangely innocuous looking apartments in front of him. The paint was bright white and pale blue, and there were small patches of flowers in front; for a moment the cheeriness ebbed away his nervousness. But it didn’t last long as a tall butler opened the front door, revealing a darker indoors. Dipper straightened himself and swallowed, and stepped up the few steps to the unknown.

               Despite how dark it was, the inside was richly furnished, unsurprisingly, most pieces matching the outside décor. It was very…Gideon. But as he was led further inside, the furniture seemed to change, ever so slightly, eventually becoming darker and darker in color. Especially as he was led upstairs to the dining room.

\---

               Bill stood in front of the window in his office, teeth clenched as he stared accusingly in the direction of the Gleeful residence. He couldn’t see it, but he knew where it was. Papers littered the floor at his feet, and his desk looked like a storm has come through.

               Part of him was surprised he didn’t do more damage. Then again, he had done enough that day. 

               He grabbed both of the curtains on either side of the window, and roughly pulled them shut, sharply inhaling through his nose as he gripped the velvet in his hands.  He slowly exhaled, and let the curtains go, and watched as they fell to the sides.

               He really was an idiot. But he didn’t want anyone to get hurt.

               Knowing Gideon as the conniving man baby he was, there was a chance he knew about him and Dipper. At times, it was somewhat obvious that they were an item, and Gideon was smarter than the Mystery Shack gave him credit for.  Call it omnipotence, or whatever, something for sure was going to go wrong soon. Maybe it was his guilt for earlier actions, maybe it was worry from the past, he didn’t know. But he knew Dipper could take care of himself. He made that well known.

               Bill pushed back one of the curtains, and leaned against it as he stared out into the night.

\---

               Gideon, for once, was not wearing anything blue, instead opting for black and a deep, deep purple. It was an unsettling change of pace, and left a bitter taste in Dipper’s mouth. But he stayed focused on anything but how he felt and put on the best con-man smile he could muster as he walked toward the patron, who scanned Dipper up and down with a smile of his own.

 _‘I hate you, you gross man baby looking shmuck,’_ Dipper thought to himself as he approached him.

               “I’m glad to see you could make it, Dipper! And this is probably one of the only times I’ve seen you clean up nice for anything other than a show!”  Gideon said, placing a hand on his back as he led him toward the table. Dipper’s smile faltered for a moment, and he ignored the urge to low-key insult him in return.

               “Well…thank you,” he managed to spit out, sitting down in one of the chairs. It was stiff and hard as a rock, despite it looking so plush.

               “You’re mighty welcome. Now, before anything else, I would like to give you a lil something,” Gideon replied, placing a meaty hand on his shoulder. He turned slightly, snapping his fingers. Another butler came forward, holding a silver tray with a small wooden box on it. He placed it front of Dipper, who stared at it scrutinizingly before making a quip.

               “It’s nowhere near my birthday, you know,” he smirked, staring coyly at Gleeful, who moved to stand behind him, both hands on his shoulders. Dipper tensed slightly when he began to rub his thumbs in circles on his back.   

               “Why don’t you open it? I’m sure you’ll like it,” he replied, leaning forward so he was just inches away from the side of Dipper’s face. Dipper swallowed, and opened the box. Inside were three pieces of paper.

               “Huh? What are…these…,” Dipper murmured, plucking them up. The first was a train ticket to New York, the next a ticket to Europe and the third was a check for one thousand dollars.  “I don’t…I don’t understand…”

               “What isn’t there to understand?” Gideon said, walking to his side, hand gliding over his shoulders. “I’m giving you the opportunity of a lifetime! Two tickets and more money than you’ve probably ever touched in your life. Think of it, Dipper…you can travel as far as you want, to wherever you want, whenever you want. “

               “But the club…I couldn’t just-“Dipper began, staring down at his hands before Gideon interjected.

               “It can and will survive without you, Dipper. Don’t you want to see more than the life here?”

               “Well, yeah. How did you know?” Dipper asked, staring at the patron as he sat on a corner of the table.

               “I have my ways, you know,” he replied. “Now there is one little catch to this offer. If you do accept this offer, I will continue to give your lil club funds, despite you and your sister no longer performing. At least in public.”

               “What? What does Mabel have anything to do with this?”

               “Now therein lies the catch!” Gideon cheerfully exclaimed, hopping off the table to get disturbingly close, and lowered his voice down to a whisper. “I want the both of you to, that is to say, keep me company. All you have to do is accept these little trinkets, and convince Mabel to ditch his _royal highness_ at the altar…and it would probably help if you left Bill, also. He does only have one eye nowadays, you know.”

               Dipper pulled away from him with a look of disgust. “How do you-“

               “As I said, I have my ways,” Gideon replied, leaning back. “Nothing truly stays secret in your gritty, little underworld long does it? About your choice, if you decline, I stop all funds going into your little shack….and heck! Maybe I’ll convince some high-paying friends to also…”

               Dipper suddenly stood, sending the chair screeching back. “If you do that, you’d be shutting us down!”

               “And all the blame will be on your shoulders,” Gideon calmly said, coolly staring at the dancer. “Do you really want to risk that? You and your family, your friends and co-workers all out on the streets? Do you honestly wish that upon your sister?”

               “How dare you threaten us? Even that did succeed, we have ties in high places too, and plenty of other sympathetic backers that would be charitable to our plight! And plenty of cities to go to,” he said defiantly. “And it would never happen to Mabel. She’s going to be a fucking queen. And I’m going to travel the world regardless of your petty bribes or not. With Bill.”  

               He tore the tickets up, and through them into Gideon’s slowly-turning bright red face. “Go dump your money elsewhere, you bourgie prick. I’m leaving.”

               Dipper turned to leave and smirked, feeling a shaky mix of nervousness and confidence as he made his way to the door.  Suddenly he felt one of Gideon’s hands on his shoulder, heavy and with an iron grip, and he found himself landing hard on the floor and unable to breathe. He looked upward to see Gleeful’s face turned into a snarl, and then one polished shoe raised perfectly poised above his head. Dipper quickly rolled out of the way just as the foot came down, springing up to stand.  He quickly raised his fists and lowered his stance- just like his uncle had taught him. 

               “Aww, how cute. The cute lil’ ol’ dancer thinks that they can take me o-“Gideon heckled before getting a solid right cross to the jaw. There was a sharp crack, and Gideon himself was down on the ground, gingerly holding his jaw. Dipper stared down at him, back in his first position; his fist hurt like terribly, and if he didn’t know any better he would have though half the bones were broken. Gideon glared up at him and shoved his jaw back into place with a muffled click.

               “So that’s how we’re going to play, boy?” Gideon sneered, slowly lumbering up. Dipper quickly dropped his fists and turned to run, but felt the collar of his waistcoat get grabbed as he continued forward. He heard the rip of seams and fabric, and rolled his shoulders and arms back, slipping the garment off of him.  He was at the door when one of the butler’s cut him off, pushing him back into the room. He fell into what felt like a brick wall, and both of them fell backwards to the floor. Dipper found himself pinned under Gideon, forearms pinned beneath Gleeful’s knees, and he could only watch as the butler shut the door behind him as he left the room.

               “Get off of me!” Dipper screeched, trying to wiggle out from underneath, but the only response was a punch to the face. Spittle flew out of his mouth, and before he could even recover, there was another on the other side. Dipper could feel warm liquid race down his cheek and lips.

               “You. And. Your. Sister. Will. Be. Mine!” Gideon shouted, grabbing the color of Dipper’s shirt and shaking him back and forth. Dipper’s head spun, but soon he could feel his hands start to fumble at his tie and the buttons of his shirt.  He attempted to struggle away, but Gideon held him firm. Raiding his head up, Dipper realized he could easy bring his legs forward.

               “I said…get OFF!” cried Dipper as he suddenly raised his knees to his chest, planting both feet firmly on Gideon’s chest. Before he could even react, Gideon found himself flying through the air, literally head over heels. He landed hard on the floor, falling with a few cracks that Dipper could only imagine being ribs as he carefully stood, and ran to the door, throwing it open.

               “RAH!” Dipper turned around, eyes wide, only to see Gideon lunging at him. The impact sent both of them flying down the stairs. The dancer shoved him off mid-plunge, leaving him prone and more than likely unconscious on a landing as he continued rolling down the rest of the steps. As soon as he landed, he stood, and Dipper flew out the front door and into the cool night.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Massive beat-downs shall have a return in Chapter 12. 
> 
> Also Pacifica because she's important.


	12. Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: violence, guns, and blood mention.

               Bill found himself dozing off as he leaned against the window frame, the lights of the city dimming beyond his eye. He jolted, breathless, when the sound of rapid knocking echoing through his apartment woke him. Concerned but cautious, he quickly made his way to the front door, waving away his housekeeper to take care of it himself.  He peeked through the peephole to see Soos, looking frantically around and raised his fist to knock on the door. Bill felt his heart sink to his shoes and he threw open the door.

               “Soos? It’s the middle of the night- what’s happened?” Bill said. Soos, taken aback by the sudden movement, quickly answered.

               “You need to come to the club, like, right now. Something happened to Dipper- he’s really beat up,” the barkeeper responded, and Bill pushed past him.

               “Take me there- Now!”

\-----

               The chalet’s doctor and Mabel were fussing over his injuries when Bill threw open the door to Dipper’s room.  Dipper looked up at him with tired eyes, one completely black and blue and almost seemed to be on the verge of being swollen shut. There was another bruise sprawling on the boy’s other cheek, and there was dried blood on his face, shirt and fists, and Bill couldn’t tell if it was his or not as it was dabbed away.

               “Bill?” Dipper said, looking at him hazily. Bill quickly rushed over, grabbing the boy’s face in his hands, careful of the bruises as he kneeled down in front of him, much to the annoyance of the doctor.

               “What happened? Was it Gideon? I’ll kill-“Bill was cut off by a hand over his mouth.  Dipper made a small hushing noise.

               “Let’s let the doc and Mabel fix me and my shoulder up, then you can talk about your murder plans,” Dipper said with a grunt as the doctor slowly raised his right arm. “And Stan beat you to threatening murder.”

               “Yeah, he’s setting up extra bouncers all over! And Gideon’s been banned too!” Mabel continued. “Also, hey, Dipper, look at the door.”

               “Huh, why? What’s with the d-AHH,” Dipper shouted in pain as his shoulder was popped back into place with a pop and a slight crack.  Tears welled up in his eyes, and Bill was quick to wipe them away.  The dancer sniffed, grabbing his hand and gently squeezing it as the doctor tied his arm in a sling.

               “He knows,” Dipper whispered. “He knows about Mabel and Mermando. He knows about us. He wants me and Mabel for himself. He threatened to get the club shut down. And I…I left. I put the whole club at risk. I put my family and everyone at risk, and I-“

               “Dipper, we’ll be fine!” Mabel said, rubbing his uninjured shoulder. “Believe me this time, huh?”

               “But-“

               “Look, whatever Gleeful said won’t happen. I’ve dealt with him before, granted I lost an eye, but at least I know how he thinks for the most part,” Bill interjected, placing a hand on his thigh. “We’ll be fine.”

               Dipper relaxed a little bit, and smiled slightly. “At least I dislocated his jaw. It felt good.”

               “But it explains why your knuckles look a little worse for wear,” Bill said, gingerly poking one of the thick scabs forming over his hand. 

               “I heard something about a jaw? Better not be yours, Dipper,” Stan interjected, quickly sweeping into the room. “Well, doc? How’s my nephew? He gonna be alright?”

               “He’s going to be alright, Mr. Pines. He needs a few days bed rest, and he’s going to be in some pain due to the dislocated shoulder, and multiple bruises and cuts. Fortunately, no broken bones, and somehow his nose isn’t broken either,” the doctor quickly listed, grabbing his medical kit. “Call me if he needs anything to relieve pain. Good evening.”

               The doctor closed the door behind him, and Stan turned to his kids, sighing and looking down at the ground.

               “Dipper, I’m- god, I’m so sorry,” he said, clenching his fists. “Of all the things that could’ve happened, why did this have to happen to you?”

               “These things just-“

               “No, they don’t just happen, Dipper!” Stan snapped, looking up at him, eyes rimmed red with exhaustion. “If I had had any sense at all, you never would’ve been put in that situation, or any one in the past four years. Same for you, Mabel. I should have been a better guardian and kept you two out of this life. Bohemian? Fine. But escorts? Dancers? Courtesans? I just-“

               “Grunkle Stan! You told us to stay out of this life, and we didn’t listen!” Mabel said, and Dipper nodded stiffly, pain starting to kick in.  “But what Gideon did isn’t your fault, or our fault, or anyone’s fault but Gideon’s.”

               Stan halfheartedly nodded, knowing she was right. “Well, we shouldn’t have to worry about the little monster now. He’s banned from the club- fortunately we got enough of his money, and once a few patrons find out his share should be bought out within a week.  I think Grenda and Candy ditched the show and went to go send a wire out to your friend in Paris…don’t know how they’ll do that at 3 a.m.….But as of now, things should be looking up here for the club.”

               “Thank god,” Dipper sighed, leaning forward to rest his head on Bill’s shoulders.  “I hope I never see that rat bastard again. “

               “You won’t,” Bill murmured. “I’ll make sure of it. And I don’t mean that in a possessive way or anything just-“

               Dipper hummed, and gently brushed his lips against his jaw, silencing him immediately.  Mabel looked at the two of them and smiled, brushing her skirt off as she stood.

               “C’mon, let’s let Dipper rest. I’m sure Bill will be a gentleman, of course,” she said, throwing a pointed look at Bill before, gently grabbing her uncle by the elbow and leading him out of the room.               “Besides, I need to tell you some things that are probably going to come out soon. Good night you two! Also I stashed some bourbon under the mattress in case Dipper needs it. Night!”

               The door shut with a resounding click behind them, and Bill sat next to Dipper onto the bed.  Dipper leaned heavily against him, exhausted and coming off of adrenaline- he felt like he was covered in lead weights. Bill felt him let out a heavy breath.

               “I’m…I’m sorry for what I said,” Bill said quietly. Dipper nodded against his chest.

               “I know, and I accept your apology,” he murmured. “Do it again and I will smack you one.”

               They were silent for a moment before Dipper spoke up.

               “He’s the one who took your eye, isn’t he? Or at least the reason, right?”

               “Yes,” Bill replied. “He knew we were playing a risky deal, and he backed out when he realized he didn’t want anything to do with it if it fell through. The other party wasn’t pleased. Thus…” He absentmindedly waved a hand at his eyepatch. “Well, you get the picture. At least I got a little revenge on him.  Tricked his parents out of a business, and now it looks like you beat the shit out of him.”

               “I dislocated his jaw, and he probably has a few cracked ribs and head trauma,” Dipper smiled.

               “Nice.”

               The both of them chuckled, but Dipper dissolved into sobs, the entire night and the pain and just…everything crashed onto him like waves. Bill carefully adjusted himself to be leaning back against the pillows of his bed, with Dipper curled up on him.  Soon he fell asleep, and Bill swept his blood and sweat coated hair off his face, gingerly brushing the birthmark on his forehead.

               As soon as he was better, they were going to fly away.

\----

               Mermando had arrived an hour after Bill to see what he could do, only to be intercepted by Stan. Arms crossed, eyes stern, he towered over him with a scowl. The prince swallowed, but squared his shoulders and raised his chin, but his eyes still betrayed him.

               “So, _your highness_ , when were you going to ask me, Mabel’s guardian and uncle, the man who has raised her and her brother since they were twelve, for her hand in marriage?” he growled.

               “I was…eventually. When you liked me better. Within the next few weeks,” Mermando said. “I suppose Mabel told you everything?”

               “You suppose correctly, kid,” the older man replied. “You ain’t playing any games are you? I swear I will have people looking into you. I have my connections. And if anything ever happens to my niece…”

               Stan clenched a fist, and Mermando could hear the crack of his knuckles.  His response was quick.

               “I promise nothing will ever happen to her,” he swore. “I’m going to check on her. Excuse me.”

               He moved around Stan, putting as much distance between him and his fiancee’s uncle.

               “Now that I officially know about you two, I will be sending a chaperone to watch you both like a hawk. Just because we’re in a club and bordello doesn’t mean we don’t have morals,” Stan called after him as his disappeared into the apartments above the club.  

               ---

               The following night was tense. The bouncers and dancers were on edge and high alert, keeping an eye out for Gideon. Word had passed around the crowd about how Gideon had beat one of the dancers, never once mentioning Dipper’s name, but there were a few who were pooling funds to buy out his share in the club. Mabel was doing a solo act for the night, one of what was probably going to be her last. Dipper stood guard next to her in the dressing room, holding a small bag of ice to his cheek. 

               “You should be laying down,” she chided, pursing her lips. “Or at least sitting, you dingus.”  

               “You know I can’t stand bed rest. So no,” he replied, adjusting the ice. Wendy pushed back the curtain to the dressing room.

               “No, dude. Listen to your sister or it’ll take forever to get better. Trust me there.  Also, maybe you’re on in three. No sign of him within or around the club,” she reported. “Dipper, bed, now or I’ll get Soos to fireman carry your scrawny butt to your room.”

               “Fine! Jeez,” Dipper sighed. “But can I at least get a few more minutes down here?”

               “Only a few minutes,” Mabel said, standing up to fix her skirt. “Then straight upstairs young man.”

               Wendy smirked, before ducking out of the dressing room. “See you in the wings in a minute.”

               “On with the show?” Dipper said, offering his good arm to his sister. She shook her head, and took it anyway.

               “On with the show!” she sang, and they walked out to the wings. Dipper watched as she stepped to center stage behind the curtain, and stayed as long as he possibly could, waiting until the curtain opened and he could see Bill and Mermando sitting in the audience.

               Bill noticed him, looking past Mabel to give him a look that said ‘go to back to bed’. Dipper smiled, and nodded, moving out from the wings and moved through the backstage to the steps. As he placed a foot on the first step, he heard a muffled shout, followed by the sickening sound of a gunshot echo in the theater, followed by the sounds of screams. His stomach turned, and he sped to the stage, the pain he was in be damned. He ran onto the stage to see a shock of white-blond hair get stranglehold to the floor of the auditorium, shouting words he couldn’t hear, the only things that registered in his mind was that Mabel was on her knees on the stage, sobbing, and he ran to her.

               ‘Oh god please don’t be the one that was shot no no no,’ the thought ran through his head. He kneeled next her pushing her shoulders back to see her face. She had a wild, panicked look on her face, stained with streaked makeup, but not injured. Before Dipper could say a word, she let out a strangled cry, and pointed to a table he knew all too well. He snapped his attention to it, and through the freaked guests as they ran for the exits, he could see Bill, looking down at his stomach numbly, but Dipper could see the red stains on his hand. He slowly turned his head to look at him, before his eye rolled back and his head drooped onto his chest.

               It never occurred to Dipper that the shout he heard was his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp  
> i don't know when the next chapter will be, since i'm moving back to college tomorrow, hopefully soon though.


	13. There and Back Again

The first thing Dipper registered upon waking the next morning was a low grumble in the bed near him. He stood quickly and ran to the bedside, placing a gentle hand on Bill’s as he mumbled and let out a slight groan as he slowly began to wake up.  

               “Bill? Bill, come’on, wake up. For me?” Dipper whispered into his ear. Bill’s eye fluttered open, and lazily focused on him.

               “Please tell me I’m in heaven and all the angels look like you, ‘cause if I’m in hell this is going to be torture,” he mumbled. Dipper couldn’t help but laugh and shook his head no, unable to properly speak.

               “Ugh, what happened?” Bill asked, trying to lean forward, only to be pushed back by Dipper. “I feel like I got hit by a train…”

               “Gideon got into the club last night- he shot one of the bouncers- and got to you. Fortunately he’s a lousy shot and missed all of your organs. Mermando tackled him to the ground before he could unload anymore rounds,” Dipper explained, sitting on the bed next to him.

               “Oh yeah. Remember that now,” Bill sighed. “Is everyone else okay?”

               “Mabel was a little shaken up, and Mermando has a concussion,” Dipper said. “But everything’s alright. Gideon’s in jail by the way. Attempted murder and attempted assassination of royalty speaks more than money.”

               “About time he was in there,” Bill laughed, but winced soon after. “Ow.”

               “Stop moving, you’re going to bust your stitches,” he chided. “I’m going to go tell everyone you’re awake.”

               “No, now you stop. You’re still injured, so, yeah. Both of us are on bedrest now,” Bill said, grabbing his beau’s hand. 

               “I hate bedrest.”

               “Even with me?”

               Dipper smiled and climbed into bed next to him. “I guess I can make an exception.”

               Bill carefully slid over from the middle of the bed to give Dipper room, wrapping an arm around his waist. Even though the room was silent, Dipper found solace in it, glad for the quiet after the past few, loud hours. He heard the blonde next to him start to softly snore, head heavy on his shoulder.

               Mabel came in a few minutes later, quiet as a church mouse, and quickly mouthed ‘Is he alright?’ Dipper nodded, ‘He just fell back asleep. Are you?’ She came over and sat on the bed next to him.

               “I’m tired of you idiots getting hurt, for one. But I’m okay,” she whispered. “Mermando’s icing his head, and Stan is getting new bandages for his fist. Did you see the hit his landed on Gideon?”

               “Oh god, yes. His cheek is probably shattered,” Dipper said. “I don’t want to see what the stagehands and dancers did to him before the police arrived. I mean, I do but…”

               Mabel smiled softly to the side with a small chuckle. “I don’t care. As long as he’s gone…I’m sorry about everything that’s happened.”

               “It’s not your fault.”

               “I just…I feel like there was something I could’ve done,” she sighed, looking down at her hands.  He placed one of his over hers.

               “There was nothing. And even if there was, it’s in the past,” he said. “We’re good now, so don’t overthink it.”

               “Right,” she replied, eyes drawn to the window. “It’s going to be a nice day today.”

               He hummed in agreement. Dipper looked to his shoulder to look at Bill, before looking back at his sister.

               “So, does Mermando’s family know everything now? Since, well, you know?”

               “Yes. They should be arriving in a few days, actually,” she frowned. “Mermando and I are figuring out what to say. I mean- his is mainly just declaring that he loves me, and a bunch of socio-political junk, and me…I’m pretty much defending my own character. And that's super stressfull/”

               “Well, I think you're great, and you got me and Bill to help back you up. And Stan too.  All he really needs to do is crack his knuckles to put them into submission,” Dipper said with a smirk. Mabel couldn’t help but laugh at the mental image of a royal family and entourage trembling in front of her uncle.

               “Pacifica will be there too. She comes bearing gifts, legal aid if need be, and a smack on the back of the head for you,” Mabel listed. “She says she owes you one.”

               “Aw what? Tell her I’m on bedrest with my mortally wounded lover,” he said dramatically.

               “Then she save it for when you’re not on bedrest then,” Mabel replied, standing. “If you excuse me, I have a large feather bed calling my name. I’m exhausted. I’ll see you too later.”

               She gently kissed his forehead, and quietly left the room. Dipper slid down in the plushness of the bed and pillows, adjusting his sling. He scanned about the room, feeling sleep creep back over his eyes. The sun seemed to lazily filter through the window, and he couldn’t help but think: ‘ _what a day. What a lovely day.’_

               He and Bill slept through most of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> epilogue to follow. I feel like there's loose ends to follow up on.


End file.
